Life's a Train on Broken Tracks
by Boom-Rhapsody
Summary: Years later after leaving the Institute Ray's able to hide his mutation and make a life of his own. When Mixing w crowds in NYC you'd think he could get away from his past. but somethings you just can't forget or leave behind... 1117 reviews to cont.
1. Lifestyles of the DCR and the DCB

A/N: well, hello again. Okay, for the treasured few of you who actually read my first story, I'm sorry, but I've gotten rid of the DCR and replaced it with the sequel to "Ghost of Mine". Yes, the sequel!!!! Up to R because it will cover ADULT themes. Not sex [maybe], but drugs, pain, the like. Okay, so the big S word will be mentioned. Oh, and language.

Disclaimer: well hello, do you think Marvel would put this up on the internet like this if they owned it? So hence, I own nothing.  
  
_Without further ado, I give you...._

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**Life's Train Ridin' on Broken Tracks**

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**Part 1: My New Lifestyle**

Chapter one: The Down City Risers and the Down City Brothers

The music started up, and people started coming in. The restaurant on the third floor opened, and people started coming in. The lounge in the second floor opened, and people started coming in. That's how most active nights went, but Fridays were always the busiest. Not just for the clubbers, who came to dance, get drunk, hope to get laid, and then find ways home via the escort service. No, most Friday nights were devoted to business deals. Record labels were discussed, possible acts for entertainment, and of course, how to get money.  
  
The ways of getting money were often very controversial. Prostitutes, contraband, drugs, illegal aliens, all of that and more on the list. But no one thought it bad. They owned the city, not to the naked eye of course, but they had left deep marks on Main and Wall Street. People were up in the offices, getting information; people were down in the gutter of the Big Apple, getting info on gang relations. All of this done under a façade of a worthy business associate or trusted business owner. Not many knew what happened behind the mask. Not many saw what happened when the sun went down and the moon came up to glitter over the lives of the few and the proud.  
  
Ray Crisp found himself in that crowd, the one of the few and the proud. Barely twenty-five, he had finally made it to the top. He owned a club, restaurant, went to college, lived in one of the best apartment buildings in the city, had a clear view of everything, and was living it all up... Yeah, he had it all.  
  
Ray looked over to the person who sat beside him, Roberto De Costa. After Ray left the Institute, Roberto had followed him up, unable to stand the Mutant Crowd any longer for reasons he wouldn't say. So, Ray and he shared the rent of an apartment, and made it through school together. Ray paid his way through Business school, while Roberto finished his junior and senior year before doing the same. It was hard, but they got through it, meeting Joey Valerio along the way and getting drawn up into a life of riches, power, and secrets. Ray and Roberto grew up fast, but it paid off in the end... For the most part, anyway... ---  
  
The meeting was in the back "Risers Room". A reserve meeting area with table, dramatic spotlights, couple computers, and couches incase the eight seats were taken up. It  
  
Ray looked to his right, and saw another friend, Joey Valerio, son of Joseph Valerio, Sr. A born city kid, Joey had showed Ray around and hooked him up with his first job.  
  
Also at the table were Andres, a local gangster who rarely made an appearance, (50 Cent would have competition with this black man, a person who grew up in the projects, and had a crew of thugs all the time. He wore a bullet proof vest 24/7, if that said anything. He was also the leader of a local gang known simply as "the Knock-a-rounds"), Donni "A-Jax" Valerio, Joey's brown-nosing brother, a few rich whities from Manhattan Ray couldn't name, and of course the arm candy girls who decorated a few arms, walked around serving drinks (and head, if they crawled under the table). Not a big crowd, but this was more than business.  
  
At the head of the table, in all his mafia glory, was Joseph Valerio Senior. A balding, plump, rich Italian man, raised in the ways of the Mafia, he came over to the US with a vision, though tainted red. Thanks to him, the Underground had a sense of Order. Thanks to him, Ray and Roberto got through college. He treated Ray like family, and didn't ask for much...  
  
"You are all probably wondering why I've asked you to come," Valerio said, leaning back in his seat. His uncharacteristically clear voice held a subtle edge of power, that hint that let you know don't interrupt or else. That voice seemed to radiate, seeping into every ear and mind; "As you see by looking around you, only the elite members of the Down City Risers are present. I've found a new... venture... a new, opportunity of sorts... that could make us all wealthy men."  
  
Ray consciously sat up in his seat, though the comfy leather he'd chosen was inviting to just drift sleep. The floor vibrated from the music in the club, the loud voices and activities audible somewhat. Ray glanced at the two guards at the only exit. Yep, it was locked. The room was soundproof now. Something was going to happen...  
  
Valerio rose, not a good sign, Ray thought; "This could make us millionaires," he continued; "And it won't cost more than an American dollar on our part."  
  
"Are we attempting something out of the States, then?" one of the unfamiliar men said timidly, clearly British.  
  
Valerio turned on his heel to face the cowering man; "As a matter of fact," he said, smirking as he continued walking around the table. Oh no, not a good sign; "Yes, but not by us leaving here. An associate of mine in Honduras wants me to help him ship up some goods. Now, this is a risky undertaking, but I'm willing to share the profit if you, my fellow brothers, are willing to... get it over the border and pass it around," he paused.  
  
"Um, Valerio?" Ray asked, and Valerio looked at him and nodded; "What exactly are we talkin' about dealin'? Drugs, cars... _stolen artifacts_, what?"  
  
Valerio chuckled; "No, Ray, nothing like that," he smirked again, a lighthearted one it seemed; "Well, drugs are a side deal. No, we are talking about gems, my friends, cold, raw gems freshly cut. Diamonds, rubies, gold..."  
  
"So, why's this all illegal, then?" another one of the white men asked. Ray took note how the remaining silent one was constantly fidgeting, shifting his position, facing Valerio or anyone that talked. _He's wired_, Ray thought, _maybe...  
_  
"It's on federal property, apparently," Valerio said, unconcerned; "Now, my associate has gotten these goods to the Gulf, but we need to collect them in an exchange from there..."  
  
_The other two are legit_, Ray thought, his eyes still on the three. He now noticed the Brit, a William Hammle, and the other as John Sanders. But the mute was fidgeting too much. It made Ray nervous. Now he wished he'd never even said a word.  
  
Ray kept calm, and held his hand down behind his chair. He snapped his fingers quietly, and one of Andres' thugs came over; "Yo, the mute white," Ray whispered fiercely; "Rip the wire off, take the badge in his pocket, and make sure he don't remember anything. Got it?"  
  
"You sure?" the thug asked in a gruff whisper.  
  
Ray nodded, turning back to the table as the thug walked over to tell two others. Valerio had stopped to watch him, and Ray simply shrugged when they made eye contact. Valerio nodded.  
  
The three thugs surrounded the mute, who looked around in horror before glaring at Ray. Again, Ray simply smiled and shrugged as the mute was hoisted from his seat.  
  
"Wait," Valerio said, holding up a hand. He glanced at Ray, then looked at the thugs and their next "assignment"; "What is _this_ all about?"  
  
"Crisp says this crackah's wired," one said, motioning to Ray.  
  
"This true?" Valerio asked, looking at the man and nodding slowly as he thought; "_Strip 'im_."  
  
Joey and Roberto tried to hide their laughter, and Ray smiled wickedly as the man glared at him again; "Why not?" Ray said, shrugging.  
  
"What's your name, oh Silent One?" Joey asked cockily.  
  
"Don," the man replied simply, throwing his arms from the thugs as he stepped away. But he froze when a prominent click went through the air.  
  
Ray looked over. A-Jax had loaded his handgun, keeping it under the table for effects. Valerio smirked again, the dangerous one; "Open 'im up," he said.  
  
In a flash, a thug had ripped "Don's" jacket and shirt away, revealing the wire taped to his chest and leading down to a small box on his belt; "Sucker's really rigged!" Joey exclaimed as the wire was painfully ripped away by a thug. Don let out a painful grunt, falling to his knees as his arms wrapped around the welts traveling down his front.  
  
Valerio laughed as he walked over to him; "Nobody crosses the Down City Risers," he spat, kicking Don. Don let out a hollow, almost silent cry, then fell to the floor.  
  
Andres had been handed Don's jacket, and after pilfering the pockets, produced a wallet and badge; "Look, a badge," he said in his deep, throaty voice, laughing. He slid the badge and wallet over to Joey, who took it up. After scanning it, he handed the articles over to Ray and Roberto. Ray pocketed the Badge, and Roberto pocketed the wallet. Don's heart sank—it was over.  
  
Don managed to stand, and his clothing was thrown at him. He hastily put his shirt on, and Valerio chuckled; "What's the rush, '_Don_'?" he asked, then he turned to Ray; "Ray, I don't ask or much," he said, "I want you, Roberto, and Joey to take '_Don_' here to our little friend down near the Peers. Can I count on you?"  
  
"Of course, Valerio," Ray said as the Down City Brothers rose to the cause; "We'd be happy to," he looked at Don, and managed to smirk; "Come on, let's get this guy outta here," and with a wave of his hand, Don was flanked by Joey as they headed out.  
  
Roberto closed the door, and he flanked Ray's right as Joey took the left with Don between them. Joey's hand gripped Don's upper arm like a vice grip, ensuring that the guy wouldn't run off. Ray could feel Don's tension, but ignored it. The four walked through the lounge, taking instead the back stairwell over the main one. As they left the second floor, Don started to ponder on his demise.  
  
They came out in the back alley, where the dumpsters were kept and the vents from the neighboring buildings poured stale air out. Ray pulled out his cellphone, looking at Roberto briefly as he did. Pressing #3, he waited as it rang.  
  
Roberto popped his knuckles, turning to look at Don. The man was petrified, trying not to quiver. Joey was idly looking up at the sky, as if trying to find stars. "Yeah?" came the reply after four rings and silence.  
  
"Favor?" Ray asked.  
  
"...Gods, Crisp, don't tell me you have _another one_?"  
  
"What can I say," Ray said airily, "Boss is on a roll. So, can you get a car around?"  
  
a sigh—"Yeah, suppose I could..."  
  
"Come on, it won't take long," Ray paused; "We're at the usual spot. Be here in five." With that, he hung up.  
  
Ray put the cellphone back in his pocket, and looked at Joey; "What're you lookin' for, Jay, stars?"  
  
Joey shrugged; "Why not?" he asked, looking at Ray briefly before once again continuing his search; "Damn bored jus' standin' here..."  
  
Roberto chuckled, then he turned to Ray; "Hey Ray, got tickets for the next boxing match. In?"  
  
"Nah, boxin' really isn't my kinda sport," Ray said, "But, thanks. Hey, take a girl with ya."  
  
"Yeah, what girl likes boxing?"  
  
"The ones that like gettin' in yo' pants!" Joey said, nudging Roberto as the three shared a laugh.  
  
_How can they be like this?_ Don thought, _And they're just kids! They're acting like this is just some joke! They're acting like a life doesn't matter!  
_  
In the time stated, a short, black limo pulled up at the end of the alley, and the window rolled down; "_Come on_!" came the reply, a hissed whisper as a dark hand waved them over. Without another word, Joey, Roberto, and Ray rushed Don over, Ray opening the door, shoving Don in, and then all three climbed in.  
  
Before Don could try and open the door, Joey had reached over and pulled him back. Ray had pulled out the badge, and Roberto pulled out the wallet.  
  
"_Nah no_!" Roberto muttered, brow furrowed in thought as he went through the wallet, when Don reached out for his things. Roberto planted his foot by Don's knee, going through the wallet; "Hmm, Master Card... Visa... ooh, funky Driver's license," he said with a chuckle; "So, Donald Reggins, what precinct you workin' for, ah?" he looked up at the captive man.  
  
"Works for 42nd," Ray said, tossing the badge in the air and catching it; "Right?" he looked at Don; "Come on man, your minutes are numbered anyway."  
  
Don sighed; "Yeah," he said, "I work for 42nd," he looked at Joey, who was now idly polishing a small, silver handgun with the cuff of his sleeve.  
  
Joey paused, and looked up; "What?" he asked; "You wanna should I just pop a cap in your ass now?" he held the gun out towards Don, who cringed against the interior.  
  
"Hey, _quit waving that thing around_, Joey!" Roberto exclaimed with a look of disgust; "Honestly, what if it went off?"  
  
"Mother hen," Joey said idly, putting the gun away.  
  
Don sighed, and straightened up; "So," he said, "I never would have thought that you, Ray Crisp, would be in on these kinds of things. Though it's not surprising..."  
  
"My name's not in the federal books," Ray said, "Least not in this city. I'm keepin' you alive, anyway, so don't go makin' wise cracks."  
  
"Oh?" Don asked; "Your friend wavin' that gun around-"  
  
"We'll give you an answer if you answer this..." Roberto said.  
  
"Why you guys suddenly startin' to bug our meetin's?" Joey finished.  
  
"Well, your boss is pretty big in the contraband end of the Market," Don said, leaning back; "We've been watching him for months, but we can't get anything up to the surface. So, we figured that we could get some guys in under cover-"  
  
"There're more?" Ray asked.  
  
"I won't give you names," Don said.  
  
"Look, we'll get it outta ya anyway," Roberto said.  
  
Just then the window came down; "Crisp," came a voice, deep and a little edgy; "Maximoff says dock five. Okay with that?"  
  
"Yeah," Ray replied quietly, leaning his head towards the window; "Let's just get this done, okay?"  
  
"You owe me big for this."  
  
"I know," Ray sighed as the window went back up. He seemed to be in debt when it came to these kinds of thing.  
  
The limo gave a lurch as they hit the docks, the car bouncing along the wooden boards as they went to the selected warehouse on the peer. The riders inside waited in a deathly silence until the car came to a halt. The driver got out, and opened the door. Ray got out first, then Roberto and Joey brought Don out.  
  
"Don't freak out when we get in here," Ray said to Don; "You wanna live, right?"  
  
Don nodded; "I have a family," he stated.  
  
"Yeah, we don't have consciences, so don't try guilt trips,_ old man_," Joey said, and then he and Roberto shoved Don along inside the warehouse.  
  
Ray hung back, and turned to the driver. The man lifted his hat, and Evan Daniels made his appearance; "Lucky you and your dad invests in limos, huh?" Ray asked as they shook hands.  
  
"Yeah, suppose so," Evan replied, smiling; "Just... man Ray, when you gonna get out? Valerio's gonna catch on, ya know. We worry about ya, man, you and Roberto both."  
  
"Hey, we're trying," Ray said, "Keep it low though, okay? We don't want folks at the X-Inn worryin' too much."  
  
Evan let out a quiet laugh; "Yeah suppose so. I gotta get goin', see ya Ray," he climbed back into the limo, and as he drove off Ray walked into the warehouse.  
  
Ray walked through the rows of broken cars, finally getting to the back where a spotlight showed down on Don and the other DC-Brothers. Don was strapped down into an old barbershop chair, paler than he already was. Roberto and Joey were leaning against the seat, but backed off when Ray approached.  
  
"Mastermind! Maximoff!" Ray said loudly.  
  
Pietro walked out of the shadows after a burst of speed, and Mastermind followed him soon afterward; "Look Crisp, hurry it up already!" Pietro shouted impatiently; "Dad doesn't know about this."  
  
"Yeah, neither does mine but ya don't see me whinin' about it," Joey muttered.  
  
Pietro shot him a look, muttering under his breath about how Joey was a stuck-up mob brat. "_What was that_?" Joey asked, hand going to the gun in his inner jacket pocket.  
  
"Let it go, Joey," Roberto said quietly; "Pietro's like that," Roberto looked at Pietro, who shrugged.  
  
Mastermind walked over to Don; "What do you want me to remove?" he asked, looking to Ray.  
  
"Everything from the past three days," Ray replied; "The stuff that's got to do with the Down City Risers, anyway. The precinct stuff too."  
  
Mastermind nodded, but as he reached out Don let out a struggled cry and began jerking his head every which way. Roberto rushed over and held his head in place, then Mastermind took over. Roberto hastily backed off, and the four watched as Mastermind went to work.  
  
"So, how is your dad anyway?" Roberto asked Pietro.  
  
"Fine, why?" Pietro nearly snapped.  
  
"Sheesh, easy Maximoff," Ray said; "And Wanda, how's she?"  
  
"Back at the Institute after that last outburst," Pietro said quietly, glancing over at Joey.  
  
"He's okay," Roberto said.  
  
Joey was idly examining an engine set up on blocks; "Joey, _don't_," Ray warned as the inquisitive, and very stoned, young man reached out to touch a certain wire.  
  
"Fine, fine," Joey said, sluggishly backing off and stuffing his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Man, we can't let him carry a gun when he's like this," Roberto moaned.  
  
"Okay, Mastermind's done," Pietro said, "Now we gotta go."  
  
Mastermind backed off away from Don, who was now slumped and unconscious in the chair; "What'd you put in?" Ray asked.  
  
"He left for work after taking early leave," Mastermind said; "And got mugged. I say dump him a block, beaten up or something, and call it a night."

"Get any names?" Roberto asked.

"There're more cops under cover." Mastermind shook his head and rubbed his temples; "I only found one," he replied finally; "A David Hofka."  
  
Ray nodded; "Thanks again," he said.  
  
-FOLLOWING MORNING-  
  
_OUTSIDE 42nd PRECINCT  
_  
Marcus Finch and David Hofka got out of their patrol care early Saturday morning, neither keen on working on the weekend. As they rounded the corner heading for the precinct, Marcus went ahead quickly, muttering about getting home early to sleep more. As he neared the steps, he heard his partner call out.. "_Holy shit_! Mark, get over here! I just found Don!" Marcus turned around. David had gone into an alley way, and dragged a badly beaten man out from it. Marcus rushed over as David dropped to his knees, and held his breath.  
  
"No kidding? Whoa, man he looks like hell beat 'im up! Come on, get an ambulance!" Don's left temple was bruised, and dried blood caked his lips. His chest, visible through his singed shirt, seemed burnt slightly, like he had been electrocuted. _He was mugged_, Marcus thought,_ Dirty bastards who did it...  
_  
"Think this was all Valerio?" David asked as he checked a pulse. There was one, barely.  
  
"More than likely," Marcus replied, "_His wire's gone too, damnit_!"  
  
"Screw the wire, let's get Don some help!"  
  
--------to be continued (?)-----  
  
**A/N:** Well, was it good? Is it a keeper? As I said, it's a sequel, so you might be left in the dark from here on out. Review!!!!!!


	2. Let's Talk Over Lunch

A/N: well, hello again! I figured I'd post a few more chapters.  
  
Oh, to answer your question, DemonRogue13. Ray left the institute when he was seventeen, a year after I finished GoM. And he's 26 now, so that means... [Counts out on fingers]... almost a decade. Damn, that's a long time...  
  
_Oh, the Disclaimer: I do not own anything_  
  
-  
  
**Chapter two: Let's Talk Over Lunch**  
  
Ray groaned as the alarm went off at 7 AM. Slamming his hand over the Brookstone torture device, he opened his eyes to be greeted by the sun- stricken building across from his apartment complex in upper Manhattan. He got up eventually, shuffling over to the bathroom to relieve himself. He flushed the commode, and washed his hands. He then went to the sitting room, where he found a copy of the Times already on the coffee table. Plopping down on the over-stuffed white couch, Ray picked it up, and took the remote in his hands. He turned the TV on, to find the news in progress.  
  
"And in other news," the newscaster began, an almost horse-faced man with black hair and dark blue eyes; "Two days ago, Detective Donald Reggins, of the forty-second precinct, was found brutally beaten just within a block of the station. Police have labeled the attack as an assault, not a mugging as it was led to be. Reggins' badge and wallet were mailed to the precinct later that day, from an anonymous sender. Reggins had no recollection of how he became badly beaten; only that he was leaving for work and was knocked out. He was also found to have been electrocuted, suffering from second-degree burns. If you have any information on this attack, you are advised to call the forty-second precinct..."  
  
Ray muted the TV as the phone rang, and looked over to the kitchen counter some twenty feet away, across the two steps leading to the dining room and then the kitchen itself. Holding his hand out, Ray produced to bolts of electricity; the bolts coursed through his hand, and then shot out towards the phone. Picking the handheld up off the receiver, the bolts coursed back over to Ray, going back into his system and leaving the phone in his hand.  
  
Ray answered it; "Hello," he asked, getting up and walking over to the large bay windows overlooking the street below and the harbor.  
  
"Ray?" it was Roberto; "You watchin' the news, man?"  
  
"Yeah, Sunspot, I was," Ray replied, running a hand through his hair as he watched the busy streets fifteen stories below; "Man, I only jolted 'im!"  
  
"Second-degree burns, Ray; that was more 'n a 'jolt'," Roberto retorted. "Look, Sober Joey wants to have lunch at Bicarde's, again. You in?"  
  
"That Greek place?" Ray asked, turning and walking into the kitchen.  
  
"Um, think so. Anyway, I closed the office today, and all my shops are clear. I'm sendin' ya those stock statistics, and then some other tidbits of information..."  
  
"Mmm hmm," Ray said as he opened up a cabinet and pulled out his favorite cereal, Lucky Charms. He began pouring them into a bowl.  
  
"Man, you still eatin' those things?" Roberto asked, hearing the cereal through the phone.  
  
"Hearts, stars and horseshoes, clovers and blue moons," Ray said, smiling as he poured the milk in.  
  
"You are sad," Roberto sighed.  
  
"And a loser, don't forget that," Ray said, taking the bowl and a spoon and going back to his office. He got onto his computer; "Soon's I get a few things sorted out, I'm gonna check out an act for the club, then I'll meet you guys for lunch. What time, anyway?"  
  
"Oh, eleven thirty. Don't be late, Joey seemed excited about something."  
  
"Oh joy," Ray said sarcastically.  
  
"Yeah, same here. Well, gotta go, see ya."  
  
"Yeah, Later."  
  
Ray hung up, and began working. Yes, working on a Saturday. I am sad, Ray thought, laughing inwardly as he smiled at the sight of his stocks. All were up, there was money in all of his accounts at the bank, the businesses were booming. For a kid starting out with nothing but a hundred bucks in his pocket and a mutation, he was doing pretty well.  
  
About an hour later, after sorting files and making appointments and making phone calls, Ray got into the shower. He then got dressed, simple pair of blue jeans, white tank top, light blue shirt left unbuttoned over that, and then his white Adidas. Ray quickly put on his watch, belt to hold up the jeans, and then chose a simply trucker hat. He then ran and got his cellphone, put it in his pocket, put his dishes in the sink, turned the TV off, ran back to brush his teeth, then grabbed his sunglasses and shoulder bag as he left, locking his apartment closed behind him.  
  
Ray ran down the hall for the sheer heck of sliding along the floor, only passing one other door. He owned most of the fifteenth floor, the only other person being a Miss Deon, who only held a little bit of the fifteenth four her second floor to her apartment. Ray slid into the elevator as the door opened.  
  
"I swear, sometimes I wonder if there's just a twelve year old livin' on this floor," the bellboy, Max, said as he helped Ray up and closed the elevator doors.  
  
"Jus' enjoyin' life," Ray said, dusting himself off and putting the shoulder-pack over his shoulder; "So, how's it, Max?"  
  
"Fine, Mista Crisp, doin' fine," Max replied as the elevator made its descent; "Got ta see a Braves Game last night."  
  
"Oh yeah, heard about them playing," Ray said, "Who won?"  
  
"The Braves," Max regarded with a smile of pride. The aging man was a loyal fan, Ray had won tickets once and made the guy's life when he gave them to Max.  
  
The elevator finally stopped, and Ray got off at the first floor; "See ya later, Max!" Ray said with a smile as he went on to his business.  
  
"You too, Mista Crisp, and watch now! Dey just waxed the floors!"  
  
Ray laughed quietly as he left the apartment building, coming out onto the busy sidewalk. Sighing when he heard the familiar beat to "Where da Hook Gonna Be" by Murphy Lee and the vibration form his pocket, Ray answered his phone.  
  
"Talk to me," He said as he went down to the subways.  
  
"Yo, Ray? It's Justin."  
  
"Timberlake?"  
  
"You're a riot," came the sarcastic reply; "Eh, still taking the subway? I thought you were a millionaire."  
  
"Reliving college," Ray said as he boarded the subway that would take him to his destination; "So, what's wrong?"  
  
"Now why would you just assume that every time I call something goes wrong?"  
  
"Because that's just the facts of life," Ray said blatantly.  
  
"Okay, you're right. The act, that was supposed to come by, can't, and the band we booked for Friday can't come either."  
  
"So, call Diane up and just get another band," Ray said as he got off the subway and went into the mob of people to get to the stairs.  
  
"Diane's on vacation, you let her have the two weeks, remember?"  
  
"Ah that's right," Ray said, groaning; "Damn... okay, just... leave it to me, okay?"  
  
"You're the boss..."  
  
"Yeah, noted," Ray said, coming to the crowded sidewalk above; "Look, love to chat but I've gotta get goin'," Ray said; "Anything comes up, tell me. Got it?"  
  
"Yes sir, Mister Crisp."  
  
Ray hung up, pocketing his Cellphone. He crossed the street, nearly got hit by a cab, got in a fight with an Italian at the newspaper stand, gave up, and continued on his way, mumbling about not getting his daily Sport's Illustrated. Grumbling still, Ray walked into the record company, and new one simply called J Records. Well, it wasn't that new, but the building was, so consider it new.  
  
Ray went to the front desk, where the receptionist looked at him; "Can I help you?" she asked, a little too snidely for Ray's liking.  
  
"Yes, um, Charlotte," Ray said, looking at her name tag. He took his hat off; "The name's Ray Crisp, and I'm here looking for your boss, Daniel Andersoll. Is he here, or should I just wonder around the city 'til I find him?" he smirked a charming smirk he knew would give him some slack with the woman.  
  
The receptionist smiled; "One moment, sir," she said, picking up a phone.  
  
Ray turned and leaned against the desk, watching the few people that came and went. A few minutes, maybe two, had passed, then the receptionist rose and tapped Ray on the shoulder.  
  
Ray turned, seeing she was now righting out some sort of pass; "Mister Andersoll is waiting on the third floor, second door to the right," she smiled as she handed the pass to Ray; "If your stopped by security, just show them this."  
  
"Thank you," Ray said, scanning the pass. He smiled to the woman again, then went to the elevator. He caught it, and road to the third floor, getting off and finding himself in another waiting hall-type place. There were four doors, two to sound booths, and two were offices.  
  
Of course, Ray went to the one on the left.  
  
Ray didn't bother knocking, he just opened the door. He was greeted by a man about thirty-eight years old, who had black hair pulled back into a small pony tail and his near-onyx eyes glittering with enthusiasm. The man's clothing was sharp, yet casual, befitting in his line of work.  
  
"Ray!" Daniel said, smiling as he and Ray shook hands; "Long time no see, kid, how are ya? Come on, pop a squat," he added as he moved to sit behind his desk.  
  
Ray smiled and shut the door, coming to sit in one of the leather seats facing the desk.  
  
"So, what can I do for ya?" Daniel asked, the smile seemingly plastered on his face.  
  
"Just here on business," Ray said, "I need an act, particularly that guy Gavin DeGraw you were telling me about."  
  
"Gavin? Really?" Daniel asked, pushing his chair back to retrieve a folder from a drawer. He set the packet on his desk, and began going through it; "Guess this is for your club this weekend, right?" he asked, looking up at Ray briefly.  
  
Ray nodded; "You know it," he said with a slight smirk; "His singles are popular, 'specially that one song 'I don't wanna be'. That was a hit when the DJ played it."  
  
Daniel nodded; "I'll have to call him up, but there's a good chance he'll be in town anyway. How much you willin' to pay, though?" Daniel asked, looking at Ray.  
  
"Ten for comin' and playin', then a fat bonus if the show's good," Ray said, "Deal?"  
  
"Of course!" Daniel said, that smile seeming to get even bigger, if it were at all possible.  
  
Ray knew he paid high, and as he left the record company, he wondered if it was a bad thing. But a hefty tip always kept good ties, and he figured he could get anybody if he wanted to. Yep, livin' large was a good thing, especially if you could afford it.  
  
Ray made his way down the street. Glancing at his phone, he saw it was nearly noon, and he picked up his pace as he went towards the restaurant. Bicarde's was now in sight, the restaurant boasting a patio with black tables and vines making their ways around the small iron spade-tipped fence gating the restaurant in. it was actually two stories, and was pretty popular. The food was excellent, in any case.  
  
Ray walked through the small open part, but was stopped by a waiter. The apathetic man looked Ray up and down before letting out an aristocratic "humph".  
  
"Are you meeting a party, sir?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," Ray said, "Inside, and on the second floor. Mister Joseph Valerio, to be exact. I'm sure he's been by."  
  
The waiter seemed slightly worried as he replied; "Of course. Follow me, sir."  
  
As the waiter led Ray inside and up the steps, he couldn't help but think /Power is the almost the best thing.../ but at that thought, his heart gave a weak pang of emotion. Ray willed it down. His emotions weren't going to get in the way again.  
  
Ray saw that Roberto was already there, seated on the opposite side of Joey at a table near the windows. It seemed like a reserved spot; they always ended up eating here. The two were talking good-naturedly, but when Ray sat down, the conversation ended.  
  
"Sorry if I'm late," Ray said, "Stupid foot traffic is unbearable."  
  
"So, get a cab," Joey said.  
  
Just then, the waitress walked up, a leggy blonde with big brown eyes. /Oh yeah, that hair's as natural as Enron was trustworthy/ Ray thought.  
  
"Hi cutie!" she said, smiling; "I'm Anne, and I'm you're waitress. Could I get you anything?" she asked, studying Ray. /he's is a cutie/ she thought to herself /Hmm... I wonder if he's single!/  
  
"Um, water, please," Ray said, uneasy under the blonde's gaze.  
  
Anne smiled, and walked off. Ray sighed, and looked over at his friends. Joey was holding back laughter, while Roberto was close to gagging it seemed he was so disgusted.  
  
"What?" Ray asked, picking up a menu.  
  
"She was ogling you, man!" Joey finally managed, his face breaking out into a grin; "She wanted you so bad!"  
  
"Slut," Roberto muttered, looking over his own menu.  
  
"Ah, come on!" Joey said; "That chick was nice! And seriously, RAY, I've never seen you with someone! What, are you keeping something from us?" he added suspiciously.  
  
"No, Joey," Ray said, seeing Roberto glance over at him out of the corner of his eyes. Ray sighed; "I'm just waiting for the right one to come along."  
  
Joey rolled his eyes; "You say that every time we try to hook you up," he said casually; "That's actually why I called this get together, to be frank and to the point."  
  
/Oh no, he's getting business-like/ Roberto thought /Damn, Ray'll snap if he goes into that neck of the woods again.../ the Brazilian silently sat back to watch the happenings.  
  
Ray sat the menu down, a solid, silent action that brought on more quiet and tension. Ray looked at Joey; "Joey," he said slowly; "We agreed about you and your 'date choices' for me."  
  
"Look, I could care less if you just pick up a hooker off of Thirtieth and Rose," Joey said; "Pops is throwing some party, for all his business associates and stuff. Don't worry; you guys are getting invites as we speak. But he wants everyone to come with a partner."  
  
"Janette's comin' up," Roberto said with a small smile at the thought of his girlfriend; "all the way from Brazil."  
  
"Well, you're taken care of, then," Joey said; "but seriously, Ray, pops is even worried 'bout cha. He thinks you're queer, I think," he mused.  
  
"And he knows I'm not," Ray said, his hand clenching into a fist underneath the table as he tried to stay calm; "Let me try to explain. I know who I'm supposed to be with, I'm just waiting..."  
  
"You've been waiting for years, Ray!" Joey said; "you've been feeding me that bull for as long as I've known ya!"  
  
"That's that truth, and that's all I can give you!" Ray said loudly, getting up. Grabbing his bag, he shoulder it, looked at Roberto briefly, then left.  
  
Joey and Roberto watched him depart in silence; "Alright, De Costa," Joey said; "Spill. Now."  
  
"I gotta know you won't tell a soul, Joey," Roberto said quietly, "Not a word outside this."  
  
"I swear on my name," Joey said; "Come on, Roberto, I'm seriously worried about him. He's a brother, that alone gives me reason."  
  
Roberto sighed; "Look, Ray got extremely close to this girl in high school. You know how we are... you know..." he coughed; "And, they went through everything, from the government finding us out to Apocalypse. I swear, Joey, they were meant to be together. That soul mate stuff, hell they were the living examples! Imagine being so close to someone, you felt connected. Ray and this chick were connected, we came to find out; "he took a long sip of his water.  
  
"How?!" Joey asked. He'd always been fascinated by mutants, every aspect.  
  
Roberto shrugged; "We're not quite sure," he said, "Our teacher thought that, 'cause of this girl's powers, she also had a little bit of a psychic ability. We went with that. Too bad though, Ray only found out after she left."  
  
"Left?" Joey repeated. HE was hanging off every word now.  
  
"Yeah," Roberto said, nodding; "About three months after Apocalypse, she left. Didn't say why, just did. Ray said she was feeling guilty, she thought she was a burden."  
  
"Wait," Joey said; "There was a girl who got kidnapped from your team, right? Didn't the bad guy like, mess with her mind?" Roberto nodded; "Ray fell for her? Keep goin'!"  
  
Roberto nodded again; "Yeah," he said, "She was messed up, it was slow goin' healin' wise. But, she made it, Ray was with her all the way. He matured like hell, it was scary. One of our teacher's was sayin' that he went from sixteen to thirty in seven a second, like a mustang convertible. Anyway, we all thought she was fine, the school was rebuilt, everything was back on stable ground. For the most part," he paused, looking at the table; "then, she just left. Ororo, she was kinda like our surrogate mom, 'specially for her, was shattered. Our teacher had her go on vacation, but she came up here to visit her family. We've all tried lookin' for her. Ororo said that she had a friend who lived here, in New York City, but it just got bigger and bigger the more we tried.  
  
"Ray couldn't take it, so he moved up here. I couldn't stand the institute anymore, either, but it was go to Brazil, hell no to that. So... I followed him up."  
  
"How old were you guys when this happened?" Joey asked.  
  
Roberto was silent again, looking out the window as memory plagued him; "I was about sixteen, Ray was almost eighteen," he said finally, sighing as he looked at his glass of water; "Ray and me... we split the rent for an apartment. Ray was interested in stocks, and he had a knack for business, so we both bought stocks, hit it big, and started up a few companies. During college, Ray opened up his club, and I bought those businesses. By the time I graduated, we were both pretty loaded. You know, after all of this shit and all this time... he's still looking for her?" he finished, shaking his head with a weak smirk; "I don't blame him... she was somethin'..."  
  
"You think... maybe she doesn't wanna be found?" Joey asked quietly, a little stunned by the story.  
  
Roberto shook his head; "Guilt drove her away," he said, "Ray's bound and be damned if he let's her go."  
  
"I could help, ya know," Joey said, and at this, Roberto looked up; "Yeah, got connections all over the city. Give me her name, I can find her."  
  
Roberto shook his head again; "We think she changed it," Roberto, "That, or she's got everything on hide-away 'cause the government knows about her," he sighed; "This is Ray's hope, Joey, that he'll find her, and everything will be alright. He's blind, she won't be the same. Not after all this time," he shook his head; "Great, now I'm fucking depressed," he muttered, sighing angrily as his fist came into contact with the table. Roberto rubbed his eyes.  
  
"Easy, man," Joey said, "Don't want folks thinkin' your insane here."  
  
"Maybe I am..." Roberto muttered.  
  
"How?"  
  
"... I thought we'd find her by now, too."

---

A/N; there ya go, chapter # 2. that should explain some stuff. please review. Remember, this is EXPERIMENTAL. i might not continue


	3. Only One in So Many Letters

A/N: Hello!!!!  
  
This is set in the evening after the "lunchtime gone awry", okay? Enjoy!  
  
Oh, the Disclaimer: I do not own anything  
  
Final notes, I suggest you listen to Yellowcard's "Only One". It's the inspiration for this story. No, I'm ordering you, to get the full affect, listen to that song along with this chapter! [Of course, please have access to the song, otherwise, this threat is not meant for you!!! But then I'm not actually threatening, only kidding!]

lyrics by Yellow card, as taken from their song "Only One". I don't own it.  
  
-  
  
**Chapter Three: Forever and Always in Letters**  
  
_**Broken this fragile thing now  
And I can't, I can't pick up the pieces  
And I've thrown my words all around  
But I can't, I can't give you a reason**_

_**[I] Feel so broken up (so broken up)  
And I give up (I give up)  
I just want to tell you so you know**_

_Dear Ray,  
  
Hey, I just wanted to let you know I'm alright, so stop worrying and losing sleep over me. I'm almost to New York City, but I thought that I should send this so you'd know I'm fine.  
Ray, I just want you to know I love you, more than anyone else, besides my family, that is. But, I know I'm probably ruining my life doing this. Heck, I know I am. I can't explain why I left, only that I felt I was a burden. And don't try and fight it, I was a burden. I could see it in everybody's eyes, and a few of the recruits wouldn't come near me. I knew leaving was the best thing.  
Okay, writing this out I know the problem, the reason. Ray, I had to. He was in my head. I couldn't block out the voices, and having the Prof. and all the other stuff around just made it harder. I didn't want to hurt you, I'm hurting because I know I have. The last thing I want to do is hurt people, and oh god why have I boarded this train? It's too late; the intercom guy just said we were almost there.  
I wish you had come, or you came into my room to stop me. Part of me knows this is right, but I'm near dead I'm missing you and Missus O so much.  
Samone's waiting for me at the train station. At least I know she'll help me. I'll write again as soon as we get to her apartment, I promise.  
Ray, please, I didn't mean to hurt you, or anyone else we knew. I just... I can't explain this. Please, if my folks call, don't let 'em worry. I'm gonna tell 'em when I'm ready.  
Oh god, help me. Ray, take care. I love you. I do. I never will stop loving you, even if the years never let us see each other again.  
Love, forever and always,  
Meg  
  
**Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you  
You are my only one  
I let go, there's just no one that gets me like you do  
You are my only, my only one**_

_**Made my mistakes, let you down  
And I can't, I can't hold on for too long  
Ran my whole life in the ground  
And I can't, I can't get up when you're gone**_

_Dear Ray,  
  
Samone's got an amazing apartment, there's room for another person. It isn't the same, it never could be close. But, I got a job, and I've been enrolled into the local college. I miss you so much. I can't put it to words. I hope everyone's moved on. That's all I ask. Please don't dwell on my leaving. I'll right back soon as I can, I'd keep writing but the painters are here. I won't be sleeping in a room with pink walls.  
Love, forever and Always,  
Meg  
_  
_**Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you  
You are my only one  
I let go, there's just no one who gets me like you do  
You are my only my only one**_  
  
_Dear Ray,  
  
Hey, sorry it's been so long, almost four months. The reason is because Samone and me moved into another apartment, one closer to her business and to my high school. I got accepted into the Academy of Fine Arts, and I just wanted you to know that I'm still thinking about you. I'm gonna assume everyone's okay, and hopefully you've gotten better. Please Ray, I know you'll dwell on this, but you know I'm going to come back. I will, for you.  
  
Love Forever and Always,  
Meg  
_  
/Yeah, but you haven't yet.../  
  
Ray went over the letters, again and again, searching for things he knew weren't there. It killed him inside, but he wasn't going to give up. He had those letters, down to the last one he got about two years ago, before Meg stopped writing. It killed him that he didn't know why, which only made his soul want her more. He missed her like waiting for a breath; it was like it wouldn't come at times. Her words fell from the paper to deaf ears; Ray didn't need to hear her voice reading them out.  
  
They were all in a box, often times lost to the upper shelves of the closet, only to be brought down when the time came for them to bee seen and cleared of dust. With each word it brought more doubt...  
  
**_And something's breaking up (breaking up)  
I feel like giving up (like giving up)  
I won't walk out until you know..._**  
  
And as Ray returned the small shoebox to the closet, closed the door, and walked over to the window to gaze at the darkened city, memories flooded his mind...  
  
**[A/N: memory in Ray's POV]**  
  
_"Thanks," she said, looking away from me; "For, ya know, everything..."  
  
Thank God she was still alive, I was afraid she'd bled too much. The cut on her back, from the ceilings coming down on us, it scared the living hell out of me. But when she smiled I was relieved. She would be fine. She always pulled through just about anything, it was her nature. To hear her laugh was assurance enough, but everything mattered to me, down to her heartbeat being normal, which probably wasn't possible since she was a mutant like me.  
  
I smiled though, out of my thoughts and because of how innocent she seemed, how vulnerable she sounded. I brushed the hair from her face, and I said; "Hey, what are boyfriends for? And strong ones at that. Do you know how heavy you get after a few hours? Gosh, it was like carryin' a led weight!"  
  
She laughed again, a weak one but still full of life. It made my whole soul light up; I knew you could have read it on my face. I gazed at her. My sun was shining, I didn't have to wait.  
  
"Meg," I said, not realizing the word had come from my mouth until it was too late. What was I saying? I weighed my thoughts with my emotions, and my heart won out; "I love you."  
  
The three words I spoke left her silent and staring at me, her eyes never leaving me. I felt that feeling, in the back of my head and in my chest, that cold feeling. It was soothing, but I didn't know what it was. It only happened when she looked at me like that. But I ignored it when she opened her mouth to speak.  
  
"Really?" she asked finally, smiling again. At once, that cold feeling left, and I let out the breath I had been holding. "Even when I'm beaten up, bruised, and with no make- up?"  
  
I couldn't help but smile a little; "One," I said, "I couldn't care less what shape you're in. And two, who needs make-up? You don't see guys walking around with it on," I paused; "But yeah, I love you no matter what."  
  
She was silent again, smiling; "Love you too, Ray," she said._  
  
**_End reverie_**  
  
[A/N: for more, read Ghost of Mine, Chapter 15, "sweet dreams"]  
  
A single tear managed to free itself from the eye, traveling down the young man's cheek and dripping off to fall to the floor below. Ray leaned against the wall, pondering the consequences of just jumping through the window, taking glass and all out on his way. That memory was what kept him looking, he knew. It was the few words spoken with pure, compassionate honesty that constantly reminded him of what he had to do. He'd lost so many times, and after winning, he wasn't about to let the feeling die.  
  
Even though, on the inside, it was now a small flame next to the embers of emotion that dwelled close to the weakened and beaten heart, the whole "trail by fire" saying a pure sentiment to the situation.  
  
_Brrrring, brrrring!  
  
_Ray lifted his head and his eyes snapped over to the phone on his nightstand. It rang again, and with a sigh, Ray walked over to answer it. He picked it up, but upon seeing the caller, he quickly answered.  
  
"Yeah?" Ray asked anxiously.  
  
"Mister Crisp?" came the calm reply. It was the detective, David Hofka, the man Ray had hired on the side to help him find Meg; "I think I got a good lead this time."  
  
"Great!" Ray said, opening the drawer and digging for the notepad he kept. He found it, then a pen; "what is it?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.  
  
"Yeah, you told me how your girl was livin' with a_ 'Samone Edwards'_."  
  
"Yeah...!?"  
  
"Calm down!" Hofka chided, "I got her address, you could go there and work from there. Got paper and pen?"  
  
"In my hands, now tell me!"  
  
"Fine, fine! She lives on the edge of Upper Midtown, near the east side."  
  
"Really?" Ray asked, jotting it down in his chicken-scratch writing.  
  
"Yeah, you heard me," Hofka retorted; "Her apartment number is 604, at the building that looks like a brick mansion type. You should be able to find the address, I'm sure you know the area pretty well..."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ray asked calmly, getting up and walking over to close the blinds to the window. He did, waiting for the reply.  
  
"Nothing, Mister Crisp, Nothing at all;" Hofka paused; "Okay then, well, I found that out, and I thought you should know."  
  
"Expect a check in the paper," Ray said, "Oh, and Hofka..."  
  
"..._ Yes_?"  
  
"I heard a cop from your precinct got hurt, how is he?"  
  
There was a long pause; "Fine," came the curt reply; "He'll be back on the force in about a month."  
  
"Oh, that's good," Ray said, "Well, I gotta go. Bye."  
  
And Ray hung up.  
  
Ray then looked at the clock, seeing it was only six. If he hurried, he could get there before eight, maybe seven thirty. He quickly put back on his shoes, threw on his shirts, and then grabbed his cellphone, wallet, and keys from the dresser. Stuffing said items into his pockets, Ray then left his apartment.  
  
---  
  
Ray got to the elevator, sighing when he saw Max was not on duty. Pulling out his cellphone, he pressed the 3 key, and waited.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"This is Ray Crisp, I'm requesting that my car be brought up immediately," Ray said, his tone demanding obedience and respect as he exited the elevator and quickly walked through the hallway. The large doors were opened for him by another bellboy as he made his exit, Rays only acknowledgement being a nod.  
  
"Of course, Mister Crisp, it's on it's way as we speak."  
  
"Five seconds," Ray said, and he hung up. Pulling out his keys, he heard the familiar sound of a motor, and then his car came around the corner from the underground garage. The silver _2003 Chevrolet Corvette Z06_ came up to the sidewalk, the valet practically jumping out, taking the keys form the ignition before handing them to Ray. Ray took the keys, said a quick thanks, and then got in. With a roar of the imported engine, he was off.  
  
---  
  
Ray navigated the streets, taking the wide alleyways in favor of the crowded streets. He bulleted down abandoned undergrounds, barely avoiding three tickets, and finally skidded to a halt as he found the address. The apartment complex was nice; there were balconies off the walls like hairs on someone's head, and the size of the windows also promoted the buildings fineries. And of course, it looked like a brick mansion.  
  
Ray pulled up to the side, getting out of the car and securing it. He straightened his shirt, ran a hand through his hair, and walked up to the fine doors. He walked in, noting the marble floors and the cream walls. _604_, Hofka's voice rang in his head. Ray took to the stairs, and began his assent.  
  
He passed two floors, before finally seeing a door marked with a plaque that read "595". Taking that hallway, he went down, his breath catching in his throat when he saw his destination. Time seemed to slow down more and more the closer Ray got, and when he finally found himself standing outside the door labeled 604, he began to feel like an awkward teen again. Shaking his head and sighing, Ray calmed himself down, and when he had regained the cool as ice and strong as anything façade, the calm but firm look of his face and the faded look of his eyes that represented honesty [yeah... right...], he finally knocked.  
  
"Coming!" a deep, masculine voice called from within.  
  
At once, Ray inwardly sank, but for the sake of first impressions, he kept up the façade. But inside, his head was screaming to just leave.  
  
But he couldn't worry anymore, because the door opened.  
  
A/N: Mwhahaha I'm evil... yep. Review if you want to read more. Oh, Ray kinda forgot about Hofka, so for now, well....=grins impishly= la la la la la la la.... ooh, pretty birdie! =goes off ot chase shadow= Remember to review!!!!!!!!!!!


	4. Sources Say That You'rein:dotdotdot

A/N: Hello!!!!  
  
This is set in the evening after the "lunchtime gone awry", okay? Enjoy!  
  
Oh, the Disclaimer: I do not own anything  
  
Final notes, I suggest you listen to Yellowcard's "Only One". It's the inspiration for this story. No, I'm ordering you, to get the full affect, listen to that song along with this chapter! [Of course, please have access to the song, otherwise, this threat is not meant for you!!! But then I'm not actually threatening, only kidding!]  
  
-  
  
**Chapter Four: Sources Say That You're...**

"Coming!" a deep, masculine voice called from within.  
  
At once, Ray inwardly sank, yet, for the sake of first impressions, he kept up the façade. But inside, his head was screaming to just leave.  
  
But he couldn't worry anymore, because the door opened.  
  
Standing there was a muscular, tall, calm looking black man. His brown eyes looked at Ray oddly, then quickly turned into an uneasy glare as he looked him up and down.  
  
"What do you want?" he finally asked, his deep voice now almost threatening.  
  
Ray remained calm, and replied; "I'm looking for Samone."  
  
"Why?" the other man nearly barked, stepping out into the hallway. Ray took a step back to give him space, unafraid. His mind was set on something now, he wasn't about to give in to anything.  
  
"She might be able to help me," Ray said, "Look, is she here, or isn't she? I could come back—"  
  
"Ty, who is it, hun?" came a feminine voice.  
  
A skinny woman appeared at the door beside the man, her long black hair up in a messy bun, her clothing splattered with odd colors of paint, a small bulge at her stomach. /She's pregnant/ Ray thought almost instantly. The woman reminded him of Ororo Munroe, but the kind smile on her dark features quickly fell away.  
  
"Can I help you?" the woman asked slowly, and Ray's blue eyes came to meet her brown ones.  
  
"Are you Samone?" he asked, gaze softening.  
  
"Yeah," the woman said, studying Ray just like the man before, Ty, had. Her eyes grew wide then as she looked at Ray's face again, and she held her breath; "You're _that boy_," she said quietly, holding a hand over her chest.  
  
"What?" Ty asked, looking at her; "Samone, What's goin' on here?"  
  
"Let 'im in, Ty!" Samone said hurriedly, turning around and running back, away from view.  
  
Ray heard a door open, then another, and as he walked in, he gasped. The apartment was amazing, and finely decorated. There were marvelous paintings on the walls, and Ray saw, near the large bay windows on a small platform, there was an art easel with a half-done painting. The newspaper around it was the evidence that work was going on, and the paint brushes and small paint cans were also there around it.  
  
Ty closed the door as he walked in, and crossed his arms. Ray turned, and stared at him. He could feel the apprehension; the tension-fueled fire seemed to burn off the other man. Ray could tell he was older, just by the gaze. It was a father's gaze, a stern, misgiving glare.  
  
"What's your name?" Ty asked.  
  
"Ray," Ray replied, "Crisp. Ray Crisp."  
  
At this, even Ty's gaze softened, and he continued to stare at Ray.  
  
Ray was about to say something, but Samone came back into view, rushing out of a doorway, something in her hands. She went over to Ray, and held a picture in front of him.  
  
"Is this you?" she asked, her breaths heavy and strained. She put the photo into Ray's hands before moving to sit on the couch, leaning back against the armrest. Ty went over and began massaging her shoulders.  
  
Ray looked at her, then the picture. He forgot how to breathe for a moment. It was Meg, and him, at the beach. They were both reclining back on their beach towels, but Meg was leaning against Ray's chest as he had an arm around her waist. They were both smiling. /She still had her white hair/ Ray thought. The picture had been taken about three weeks after Apocalypse. Xavier had taken Meg, Ray, Ororo, and a few others to the private beach he owned, and it had been one of the more relaxing days. It was the one day absolutely nothing went wrong, the days you dream about and savor whenever they happen. Ray noticed how the picture had been folded over and across and every other way so many times, and the fact that it was so old made him wonder why it had lasted this long.  
  
Ray finally nodded, looking at the two; "Yea," he said, "This is me," he paused, his hands lowering; "Samone, where's Meg? I've been looking for her, and..."  
  
Samone rose, her hand going to the small of her back as she walked up to Ray. She craned her head back a little, but with her look she made Ray feel like he was seven inches tall.  
  
"Tell me somethin' first," she said, "What did you do to her?"  
  
"I didn't do anything," Ray said; "It was Apocalypse, he took over her mind and she was still recoverying when she left. Me an' the guys at the Institute were worried sick, but after the years, everyone but a couple of us stopped looking... You gotta know that I love her, I still do. When she left the institute, she said she would be staying with you. I've been looking for a long time, Samone. Just tell me where she is. That's all I ask."  
  
Samone nodded, biting her lower lip; "She came and broke down in tears," Samone said, walking over to the window and looking out of it.  
  
Ty took a seat on the couch, and he sighed. Ray looked at him; "Did she... say anything?" he asked quietly, looking from one to the other; "I mean, how bad_ was_ she? We thought she was okay!" he said, "I thought everything was going to be fine, that with time, she'd be able to...!" he sat down with a low moan at one of the barstools by the kitchen, rubbing his forehead as he bowed his head.  
  
Ty studied him; "She didn't talk much," he said, "Monie, I met you about a year after she came?" Samone nodded, and Ty looked at Ray; "She was sweet, doe. Fit right in with our group;" he chuckled as he looked at the floor, memories claiming him; "She's a good kid..."  
  
Ray looked through his fingers at the man, snorting; "You sound like her dad," he mumbled.  
  
"You know Meg's folks?" Samone asked, turning and looking at him.  
  
"Yeah," Ray replied, straightening up and standing; "Since that Christmas about eleven years back. I visit down there every now and then, hopin' I'll catch Meg there," he sighed; "All I want to do is see her, make sure she's still... alive."  
  
Samone's eyes filled with sympathy as she looked at Ray. He was beginning to lose the steely persona, he was starting to look a little dejected and worn.  
  
"Ain't she roomin' with that _fag_?" Ty mused nonchalantly, shattering the silence.  
  
"Ty!" Samone exclaimed, and Ray glared at him.  
  
"Well, that's what the guy is, Monie!" Ty said apprehensively.  
  
"Yeah, but that's a harsh word!" Samone said, "And yeah, she is! Where _have_ you been?"  
  
"Here, taking care of you," Ty muttered, so quietly Ray barely caught it and Samone didn't at all  
  
Samone sighed, and looked at Ray; "I'll show ya where she lives," she said, and at that Ty's gaze fixed on her.  
  
"Are you kidding?" he asked, rising, "Who knows what this guy wants to do when he finds her!" he protested.  
  
"I just want to see her!" Ray shouted; "I just want to make sure she hasn't died, that I'm not hoping for nothing!" his voice was straining a yell, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck bristling; "Look, I don't think you know what hell I've been through, excuse my language, but you really don't. Samone, you know what Meg is. Well, I'm one too. I've got to know she's all right, for the sake of the team if anything else!"  
  
Ty was silent, and he slowly sat back down; "Never mind," he said quietly. Ray's hair was bristling now, and his hands were clenching and unclenching. The vein running over his left temple was showing slightly, as well. He wasn't fooling around, he was serious as hell.  
  
"Calm down and let me change," Samone said.  
  
"Could I have an address?" Ray asked, demeanor changing completely to a soft calmness as he directed his attention to her; "I... want to go alone... if it's alright..." he looked at Ty briefly again.  
  
Samone nodded; "Sure, lemme right it down."  
  
She moved over to a table, taking a piece f paper by the phone and jotting down the address with a pen. She then handed the paper to Ray. He took it, smiling.  
  
"I've waited so long for this," Ray said, smiling. He looked at Samone, who was smiling; "Thank you."  
  
"No problem, Ray," she said, "Now, Ty, you escort him down, will you?" she added pleadingly.  
  
"Why should I?" Ty asked.  
  
"I can take care of myself, Samone, though your worry's appreciated," Ray said, "you don't know how much this means to me," he said, looking at the paper again.  
  
Ty snorted, and Samone turned on him instantly; "What was that for?" she asked, crossing her arms and eyeing him with a dangerous glint in her eye.  
  
"Nothin', honey!" Ty said, holding up his hands in surrender.  
  
Samone nodded, and then turned to Ray, who had inched over towards the door at the outburst. But she was smiling sweetly to him, and he relaxed.  
  
"Suppose ya wanna get going," Samone said, walking over and taking Ray to the door; "Tell Meg I said hi, okay?" she asked as she opened the door.  
  
"I will," Ray said, smiling as he exited.  
  
---  
  
Ray all but flew down the stairs, out the door, and he nearly ripped the car door off in his haste. Paper clutched in his hand firmly, Ray sped off, glancing at the clock and seeing it was only nine thirty. /I've got plenty of time/ Ray thought, smirking.  
  
Then his phone rang.  
  
Ray thought about not answering it, but old habits never die.  
  
He answered.  
  
"Yeah?" Ray asked, narrowly avoiding the curb as he made a sharp turn.  
  
"Ray, where are you, man?" it was Roberto.  
  
"I got her address, Roberto!" Ray said, "I found Samone and _got_ Meg's address!"  
  
"_You're_ KIDDING."  
  
"Nah man, my name's Ray and you know that!" Ray said, laughing as he rounded another corner. "I gotta get goin', Sunspot, almost there!" he said.  
  
"Good luck man! Hey, tell her I said hi!"  
  
"I'll add ya to the list!" Ray said, then he hung up, tossing the phone into the passenger seat.  
  
---  
  
The East Village was a quiet section of New York city, a place where people went for a little "down time". There were houses that could be rented, apartments, condos, hotels, and there was always a steady flow. The houses were packed together like sardines, but each street had its own flare or style. The street Ray finally pulled over on was Montcresent Boulevard, and the small two-story attic he was looking for was brick with a dark green roof. The stairs were white/cream brick and decorated with odd plants, and the glittering silver numbers of 4-5-8 shown in the street light. Ray straightened his shirt, checking the paper again. Suddenly, his stomach had taken a nose-dive down to his toes.  
  
/Come on, Crisp, suck it up/ Ray told himself as he walked up the steps, turning and locking his car when he remembered to. Ray reached out, and knocked on the door.  
  
There was no reply. Ray saw there were lights on, and a window was open in the top floor. He knocked again, but still no reply.  
  
"Meg?" Ray shouted, looking up at the open window; "Meg DeBonte! You there? Meg!!!" he jumped back off the steps and onto the sidewalk, craning his head back.  
  
A feminine-looking man stuck his head out of a window, looking at Ray, who stared back. The man's eyes were a light brown, almost hazel, and his black hair was short and spiked. He had an earring in his left ear, and had a little chain necklace around his neck. He wore small oval glasses, and his brow furrowed as he eyed Ray.  
  
This had to be Sam.  
  
"What do _you_ want?" he asked, tilting his head to the left as his gaze softened, a little.  
  
Ray watched him, not going to look away. His face was set in a calm, but firm expression, and he was determined more now than he had ever been.  
  
"Where's Meg?" Ray shouted.  
  
The man winced and waved his hand; "Don't shout!" He chided, clicking his tongue; "Gods, Why would _you_ be looking for_ her_?"  
  
"She's an old Friend!" Ray shouted, getting annoyed already.  
  
The man above smirked, leaning against the windowsill; "Oh, _that's_ all?" he asked slowly; "Well, I need to know your name so I can leave her a message."  
  
"Listen,_ Sam_," Ray said, walking up the steps; "Don't make me come up there. I want to know if Meg's around. I can tell you're lying."  
  
The young man was surprised at this, and straightened up; "_You know my name_?" he asked, his hand going out of sight as it reached for something.  
  
"Yeah, Samone gave me directions," Ray said, "And don't bother with a gun, it wouldn't help ya."  
  
Sam's hand shot back into view, and he was staring at Ray as if the blonde was a ghost; "You... you..." he began; "I'm calling the cops if you don't get going right now!" he suddenly shouted.  
  
Ray sighed, bowing his head to massage his brow. He looked back up, and sighed; "Listen," he said, "I gotta feelin' I might see you later on, and I don't want to be on the wrong step when I see ya again. Please, do you know when Meg will be back?"  
  
Sam was silent. He stared Ray up and down; "Hmph," he snorted smugly, crossing his arms; "Why should I tell you?" he asked.  
  
"Because I'm an old friend from her old home, who was hoping we could see each other;" Ray said; "it's been almost ten years, Sam, I miss her a lot."  
  
That worked. Sam automatically looked sympathetic, and looked at Ray as if he were in a pathetic state. Ray raised and eyebrow. Sam finally cleared his throat; "Meg's out working. But she'll be home before midnight, after her classes."  
  
Ray nodded; "Could you tell her Ray came by?" he asked, stepping down off the steps and walking towards his car.  
  
"I will," Sam said.  
  
Ray got into the car, crestfallen and a little more broken than when he had started. As he drove off, he practically burned the image of the house into his memory. At least Meg was doing okay, and if she was living with a gay man then chances were she was still single. /That's a blessing/ Ray thought sarcastically.  
  
As Ray began to sort things out in his mind, his phone rang again. Ray reached over and grabbed it, then answered.  
  
"Yeah?" he asked, a little too brusquely than he had wanted.  
  
"Ray? I was hoping you were in a good mood."  
  
"Valerio, sir!" Ray said, automatically coming to order; "Sorry, I'm having a bad night."  
  
"Hmm, so sorry to hear that," Valerio said; "Listen, Ray, I need you to come to the meetin' room off Thirtieth and Fourth. Can you make it there in about five minutes?"  
  
"Sure, of course, boss," Ray said, inwardly groaning; "Up top of Brigand's, right?"  
  
"The very place," Valerio replied; "Now, I have to go. See you in five minutes."  
  
"Of course, boss," Ray said, and he hung up when the familiar click of Valerio's disconnection sounded. Ray grumbled as he hooked the power-needy phone into its charger, then turned up his music as loud as he possibly could as he sped up and raced off. /I'm getting soft/ Ray thought as he drove. /Everyone's givin' me that Sympathetic look. I hate that look./

A/N: la la la la la la la.... oh, the end!!! no, it's TBC!!! Review please!!1


	5. The Darker Side of All of This

A/N: Hello!!!!  
  
Oh, the Disclaimer: I do not own anything  
  
-  
  
**Chapter Five: The Dark side of All of This**

_continuing from chapter 4...._

"Sure, of course, boss," Ray said, inwardly groaning; "Up top of _Brigand's_, right?"  
  
"The very place," Valerio replied; "Now, I have to go. See you in five minutes."  
  
"Of course, boss," Ray said, and he hung up when the familiar click of Valerio's disconnection sounded. Ray grumbled as he hooked the power-needy phone into its charger, then turned up his music as loud as he possibly could as he sped up and raced off.  
  
Ray reached the place, and after getting out and locking his car, ran inside. He ran up the steps, stopping outside a large wooden door to straighten up and put on the calm and content façade. No one except Roberto knew what he had just tried to do, and it was going to stay that way. Ray then sighed, and opened the door.  
  
He stood still as he gathered the scene. Valerio was seated behind a desk, Joey to his right, while his right, Ray's place, was vacant. There were three other gentlemen on a couch, and another lone man sat in a chair positioned in the middle of the otherwise stark room. Ray slowly walked in, and closed the door.  
  
"Sorry if I was late, sir," Ray said, walking over.  
  
"Of course not," Valerio said, his eyes on the man. Ray strode over, taking his place to Valerio's left. He nodded Joey, who smirked at him.  
  
/Something's not right/ Ray thought, his eyes going to the lone man.  
  
Said person was scared, face paled and eyes wide, though the rest of his features showed nothing other than apathy. He was dressed in casual wear; his sleek red hair gelled down and blue eyes never leaving the desk, or more so Valerio's hands that were folded upon the top. Ray recognized him after a moment; he was an Irish immigrant he had met once at a gathering. /I think his name is John Kinnock/ Ray thought.  
  
"Mister Kinnock," Valerio said, and Ray thought /I was right/; "Are you aware of why you are here?" his voice was cold, yet placid. It never ceased to unnerve Ray; even Joey never got used to it. Ray knew the tone, though he had never stayed to see what came in quick succession. He remained still and calm, like a placid statue. His eyes were on the floor, though. He didn't want to see.  
  
"Ah, yes, Mister Valerio," the Irishman replied in his clearest speech.  
  
"Please state, for the record,_ why_," Joey said coolly, eyes lifting to gaze at Kinnock.  
  
Kinnock gulped, the first sign he was cracking. Ray looked up as well. A fine sweat was forming along the man's brow, a droplet falling slowly, ever so slowly, down the side of his face. Ray looked away, instead focusing on the wall behind Kinnock.  
  
"Ah... Ah was caught pilferin' goods o' yourn," Kinnock managed, ringing his hands together anxiously. Ray pitied him.  
  
"Where were you taking them?" Valerio asked.  
  
"Ah... Ah sold 'em ta the Black Market," Kinnock admitted, bowing his head shamefully.  
  
"And you are aware of the consequences... _right_?" Joey asked skeptically and raising an eyebrow in the same fashion.  
  
Ray inwardly shivered. /Why am I here?/ he thought worriedly, looking up and his gaze falling on Valerio.  
  
Valerio nodded as he thought, and silence hung in the room like a thick mist of dread. Finally, the man spoke; "Ray, you and Joey will take care of this one."  
  
"Sir?" Ray repeated, and Joey's face fell over with dread as he too, looked at the man between them.  
  
Valerio nodded; "Here," he said, his tone finalizing the unspoken deal that Ray and Joey hadn't agreed to willingly.  
  
"Father," Joey began, but Valerio held his hand up to silence him; "No," Valerio said; "Prove yourselves," his hand lowered as his head turned. His eyes were fixed on Ray, who tried to mask his nervousness and want to be gone from the place as hidden as possible.  
  
"_By your means_," Valerio finalized; "Ray, I want you to prove to us."  
  
Ray gulped; "That's _torture_," he whispered.  
  
Valerio smirked; "Not if you do it _quick enough_," he said venomously, eyes resting again on a now very nervous Kinnock.  
  
"I can't," Ray said flatly, his fists clenched and at his sides; "Sir, I can't have blood on my hands."  
  
"I know that," Valerio said, his eyes darkening; "I know you wouldn't get rid of that cop, and then you wouldn't get rid of the two other guys I asked you to do. I don't know how you could erase their memories, but I don't know if you're being_ loyal_. I need to have trust in you, Ray! I need you to prove yourself to me here and now!" the last word echoed in the room, mixing with the foggy dread.  
  
Ray was silent. If he turned it down, he would get hurt. But an innocent, foolish man's life was on the line. Ray couldn't put him over his dirty hide. He was confused. His heroic X-Men side was screaming to be the martyr, but the inner demon was encouraging him to do otherwise. Ray bit his bottom lip as he looked at Kinnock.  
  
The blue eyes met his own, and Ray could see the inner pain and worry in the Irishman's. Ray nodded once, then looked at Valerio; "I can alter his memory," Ray said; "I'll bring in what I use to do it. He won't remember a thing, and we can just ship him over to Ireland. Just give me a time sequence, and I'll have it erased. What's the point in more blood on your hands when there are simpler, less risky ways of doing things?" he paused as he watched Valerio think it over.  
  
Valerio looked at Kinnock, brow furrowing. He kept glancing at Ray, and the Irishman in turn did the same. Ray held a stony silence, and looked up at Joey.  
  
_What the fuck?_ Joey mouthed, a shocked yet disgusted look on his face. He couldn't stand mingling with Mastermind.  
  
_I won't have blood on my hands!_ Ray mouthed back, glancing over at the couch, the three men, who had remained silent the entire time, were watching the two with hidden interest. Ray glared at them ,before he turned to Joey and Mouthed;_ just shut up and follow my lead, got it?_  
  
Glaring, Joey nodded once before directing his attention forward. Ray did the same.  
  
"Fine," Valerio said after a minute; "But I'm gonna wanna see this deal one day."  
  
Ray smirked, "Thank you, sir," he said, then he walked around the desk and over to Kinnock; "Get up, ya lazy bum," Ray said coldly; "I just saved your ass. Come on, Joey," Ray added as he pulled Kinnock up out of his seat.  
  
Kinnock was surprised at how Ray's hand was heated, and upon seeing the exposed flesh found it to be glowing. The redheaded man whimpered almost inaudibly as he was dragged out of the room and down the stairs, Joey following.  
  
As soon as they got outside, Joey burst out; "What - _the fuck_ are you thinking, RAY?! Pops is gonna follow us one day! We can't keep doing this!"  
  
Ray swung around, Kinnock forced to follow for Ray's grip on his arm; "We'll do this shit for as long as it takes!" Ray said, his eyes starting to glow dangerously.  
  
"Well, _fuck it_, man!" Joey snapped; "I won't go there again! Those friggin mutants scare the shit outta me!"  
  
"Are you on crack or somethin'? _Shut up_!" Ray said angrily as he turned and led Kinnock over to his car. He unlocked it, and shoved Kinnock into the passenger side through the driver's seat. The man was still shaken by the Ray's faint yellow-gold glow to do anything.  
  
"Come on, Joey, I can't do this alone!" Ray said, his glare leaving his face; "Would rather see this guy black and blue or red all over?"  
  
"Which ever keeps me breathin' longer, dumbass, that's what!" Joey shouted irately, throwing his hands up into the air and letting them fall.  
  
"Don't you call me a dumbass, you prick!" Ray shouted, "The longer Kinnock breathes, the more sleep you get tonight! Now get in this car!"  
  
Joey glowered, glaring daggers at Ray. But the power of a mutant, especially one with a large temper on a short fuse like Ray, was a force he didn't want to reckon with. Joey got into the back of the car, and they were off.  
  
- - -  
  
_Ray found himself in a dark room, a single spotlight falling down on him. HE looked around, then down. He was dressed in white clothing. Looking up, he heard a click, and another spotlight appeared.  
  
There was his mother, her weary, smiling face looking at him. She was frail, and Ray wanted to walk over and hug her. But as he even made to take a first step, she began crying.  
  
"What did you do, Ray?" she asked through her tears; "You could have done better than this!"  
  
"I've done what you wanted me to do!" Ray said desperately.  
  
"I didn't want you to kill people!" she sobbed; "Look at my baby now!" she shrieked, and the spotlight died.  
  
Ray looked around hopelessly, and another spotlight appeared, this time gracing the face of his horrible father, a man he never really knew.  
  
"No wonder I left you and your sorry mama, boy," the man sneered; "Lookit you, ya piece o' shit. You think yer so special, wit' your deformity—"  
  
"It isn't a deformity!" Ray shouted, feeling seven again, the age when he last saw the man before him.  
  
"—And now you think yer on top," the man spat, continuing; "You're nuthin'. I'm glad I left."  
  
The spotlight died, and another came up. It was Xavier. He looked old, tired, and morose as he gazed at Ray. "Professor?" Ray asked, hope lacing with his anguish.  
  
Xavier only shook his head; "Oh Ray," he said, "I thought you showed promise, you were a top recruit among your peers. But you had to throw it all away, to the wind;" he paused; "What were you thinking?"  
  
Before Ray could say, the spotlight was killed. Another was born, this time, it was Meg. She was dressed in white, but her eyes were sad and she could hardly stand to look at Ray, it seemed. He stared at her billowing robes. She looked like a wingless angel.  
  
"...Meg," Ray breathed as she began walking towards him.  
  
Meg had closed the distance halfway when suddenly, she cried out in pain and fell to the ground, her knees colliding with the floor sending a reverberating sound in the cavernous darkness. She cried out again, and this time, Ray ran for her. But the more he ran, it seemed he could get no closer. Finally, Ray stopped, seeing she was crying, her blue eyes fixed on him again.  
  
"Ray," she managed, her voice cracked and begging; "Why won't you find me?" she sobbed.  
  
"I found you, I just can't reach you!" Ray said distraughtly, "You just keep moving around and I'm always a step behind you!"  
  
"Why can't you just follow me?" Meg asked, before screaming out, throwing her head back as she did. The shrill note was field with piercing emotion; agony, defeat, loss. Ray watched desperately, beginning to run again.  
  
Then the spotlight was extinguished, and his last hope disappeared, swallowed in the dark.  
  
Ray looked around, his breathing hitched as he frantically hoped, prayed, wished for a way out. He was alone, like he had been all his life. He was never whole, he probably never would be.  
  
Ray looked down at his clothing, then threw his head back and yelled, the tone fueled by anger and distraught passion.  
  
His clothing was tainted red with blood..._

_---_

Ray shot up, eyes snapping open. He woke in a cold sweat, safe in his room, under the covers and in the darkness of the early morning. Quickly he turned on the light, and got up. Panting, he turned the light off, and went to the window.  
  
He glanced at the Clock tower, it was about 3 in the morning. He had gotten home from taking care of Kinnock at midnight, and the nightmare had woken him up.  
  
Ray sighed with a moan, gravely running his hand over his face as he crossed his arms and stared outside, bleary eyed.  
  
He was in a mental hell, and his angel had been taken in to the darkness. His clothing was red, he was tainted with blood. His soul was losing the battle of the Ages, against the evil that had managed to claim most of his life. Hold-outs were few and far between, and Ray felt like the breath was lost to him.  
  
He stayed in front of the window, thinking, for the rest of the morning, until sun rose.  
  
A/N: I know, sad, but I had to get it out now because I'm upset. Well, it's late, gotta go to bed. Review! Please Thank You!


	6. Just as Friends

**A/N:** Hello!!!! Wow, this was really late, wasn't it? But never fret, I haven't forgotten!!!!

Oh, the Disclaimer: I do not own anything

****

  
Chapter Six: Just as Friends

The streets were crowded as usual, with the busy foot traffic and even greater traffic on the streets themselves. But the hostile nature of the chaos that was getting to point B from A thinned to almost nothing once one were to reach the residential areas and the small functioning neighborhoods where small businesses were run. One business, the Beauty Boot between Cresser's Jewels and The Hot Stop, was especially active for the night crowd. Within, women chattered animatedly as they worked on customer's hair, deftly weaving, cutting, dying, and streaking like artists.

"I'm tellin' you, girl," a black girl, Ronda, was saying as she did cornrows; "He's history."

"Oh, he's past history," her friend, Cilia remarked, waving her hand about and nodding.

The girls around her nodded, customers and stylists alike; "I mean, he's fucked in an eighteen foot hole," Ronda continued.

Another stylist, Ann, nodded. The Porte Rican was quiet, before saying; "Hey, did Ghost even come in today? Thought she was supposed ta run chair four..."

"Haven't seen ah'," Ronda said, "I swear, she's just too damn busy for her own good."

"She's gonna run 'erself dead, y'all," Cilia mused as she trimmed her customer's hair; "Didn't she have that job interview?"

"Say wha'?!" Ann exclaimed; "Now that girl's already got three jobs!"

"One at the coffee house," Ronda stated; "Then the one at the book store, then the one here. What she need another job for?"

"Yeah, and Sam's got his clothin' designin' job," Cilia said; "They got money up outta their ears between the two of 'em!"

"She's just tryin' to keep busy..."

All mouths shut and every eye was on the one who had spoken, Cloe. The tawny girl had kept quiet, diligently styling her customer's hair. Now she was still, slowly scanning the shop.

"Well, Clo'," Ronda said, "Spill it, girl."

"Don't hold out on us!" Cilia squealed, eager for gossip.

"Well," Cloe said quietly, looking down at the afro she was trying to tame; "She was tellin' me how she was havin' these weird dreams, ya know, and said that when she kept busy, she didn' have ta think much. An' if she didn' think much, then she didn' have dose dreams..."

"That ain't everythin'!" Ann said.

Cloe sighed; "She used to know dis boy," she said quietly, looking at the floor; "Said he was _'the one'_, ya know, the guy who would die for ya at the drop of a hat an' love you know mattah what. She even said he lived here, but 'cause of what she'd done in the past, she couldn't go to him..."

"Hey, you think Sam might know somethin'?" Cilia asked excitedly.

"Cilia, this is serious!" Ann snapped, "But maybe Sam might know somethin'?" she added curiously, looking at Ronda.

Ronda nodded. They all knew Sam. He'd come in with Meg whenever it was safe for him to. Being gay and in their neighborhood wasn't the safest thing, but for the sake of friendship he would come by every now and then. Cilia always trimmed his hair and fixed it up, and as of late her "Favorite Client" had yet to drop by in over a month. They were all missing his jokes and tips.

"It's too late to call 'im," Ronda mused, glancing at the clock; "Almost ten," she mused; "Oh well, we kin ask 'im tomorrow or somethin'."

And so, with tension and worry still in the air, life resumed.

* * *

Sam cursed under his breath as he hastily ran around the small den, cleaning up the mess of toys the dog had left behind. Said dog was currently asleep on the couch. The small poodle-snousher mutt had taken every toy from the basket and after several hours of throw-about, had crashed in exhaustion. Now, Sam had been left to clean. And he had three designs to finish before tomorrow morning.

Sam sighed after cleaning, and looked at the clock. It was one in the morning. Rolling his eyes, Sam promptly jumped onto the couch, shaking the dog awake and laughing as it growled at him. But the growl faded when Sam stroked her ears.

"Well, Miss Potts," he said as the dog crawled into his lap; "Guess I won't get my work done, huh?"

The dog tilted her head to the side, before licking at Sam's hand. Sam stroked her back, reaching over for the remote and turning on the TV.

"Comedy Central™, no," Sam said as he channel surfed; "TLC™... nah... Discovery™...no... Cartoon Network™," he paused; "This is interesting..."

Anime...

Sam began watching the cartoon, the small child within him squirming with glee. It was some crazy anime show, and all he cared about was the fact that the characters, particularly and solely the males, were gorgeous.

But a soundly knock at the door brought him to his senses; "Who could that be?" he asked to himself, setting the dog down and grabbing a sweater as he passed his room. Putting the sweater on, he then opened the door.

"Samone?" Sam asked, stepping back to let the pregnant woman through and closing the door behind her.

"Is Meg here?" Samone asked nervously, looking around as she set her coat on the bar stool next to the kitchen counter.

"No, she hasn't come home yet," Sam said; "Why? Samone, you have got to calm down! Should you even be out? Whatever, come on, sit down on the couch. Move it, Potts!"

Sam shooed the dog as he led Samone to the sofa, and she sat down with a sigh; "You look like you could use tea," Sam said, watching her worriedly.

Samone nodded, and Sam went off towards the kitchen; "A guy named Ray Crisp came by asking for Meg, Sam," Samone said suddenly.

_**Crash**_

Sam had dropped the mug he had been holding; "Come again?" he asked, slowly turning.

Samone turned around and stared at Sam, nodding solemnly; "I... was wondering..."

"If he stopped here?" Sam finished; "Yeah, he did. Wow, I thought he was just some stalker!" he gasped out with a sigh, running his hands through his hair and then adjusting his glasses; "This is insane, you know that, right?"

Samone nodded; "What'll we do, Sam?" she asked worriedly; "Does Meg even know about him being here?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised critically; "She's got these old pictures in this old album from when she was a teenager. Hmm... come to think of it, that Ray guy was in a lot of them," he mused, crossing his arms as he inclined his head with thought.

Samone was silent, then she spoke; "Should we tell her?" she asked quietly; "Or do we let it play out on its own?"

Sam shook his head, gnawing on his thumbnail as he often did when worried and or frustrated; "I don't know," he finally said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he moved over to the window; "Wait," he said, turning and looking at Samone; "Does Tyson know you're here?"

Samone nodded; "Yeah," she said; "He's out lookin' for Meg," she added.

Sam nodded, before looking out the window; "This isn't good, So'," he muttered worriedly, shaking his head; "How in the hell could this happen to Meg?" he asked, looking at the woman for acknowledgment; "she's been through so... so _much_ already!"

"I know, Sam," Samone said, rising slowly and groaning at a sudden ache in her back.

"Oh gods, the tea, I completely forgot!" Sam exclaimed; "sit your ass down!" he said, gently pushing Samone back down on the couch before rushing into the kitchen.

Samone silently laughed as she watched Sam bustle around the kitchen. Seeing the young man with that type of lisp cursing was pricelessly amusing.

* * *

Samone eventually left after Ty called, saying he'd found Meg and she had been at the bookstore closing up and working over time. Meg was on her way, and Samone went home. Sam sighed, shaking his head before leaning up against the wall wearily. He was tired. Sighing, Sam hauled his body up the stairs, through the studio, and to his room, falling into the warm, down-filled blankets. He wrapped them around himself, heedless of the door opening an hour later for he had been sucked into the realms of slumber.

A thin, lithe figure stood in the kitchen, pulling her snow-blonde hair out of her face as she set her bags and things on the counter. Keys rattled, wakening her pet, and she bent down to pet the dark dog. Her blue, watery eyes were fresh with unshed tears as she gave the dog her patented imitation smile that had fooled so many. Rising, she went up the stairs, and to the other bedroom off the studio. Shedding herself of her baggy jeans, belt, and over shirt, she was left in tank and undergarments, and threw on some sweats. The dog joined her on her dark, purple covered bed, and she turned the lamps out to stare out the window and up at the starry night.

This was Meg.

Meg sighed regretfully, hugging close to her dog Miss Potts. She watched the stars twinkle, watched as the sky began to brighten with the coming rays of dawn, all the while feeling she wasn't the only one watching at that moment. It was times like this when she was thankful that the feeling of not being alone was present. She felt connected, and she knew who it was to. Guilt kept her back, she knew, otherwise, she would be happier.

"I screwed up," she managed, her unused throat adapting to the act of speaking. The dog tilted her head and whined, nuzzling into Meg's chest. Meg sighed again, laying back on all of the pillows. She watched the dawn, another sleepless night passing, and she didn't care. She could live without sleep, it didn't really affect her. Well, it did, but not physically. No one would be able to tell. Meg sighed, having spent four hours of just petting the dog and thinking about nothing, and slowly rose. She showered, and upon stepping out, she could smell oatmeal and coffee.

Meg put on a pair of jeans, a white spaghetti strap shirt, a black one over than, and then her zip-up navy blue hoodie. She left the hood unzipped half-way, and quickly put on her socks and tennis shoes. Miss Potts followed her out, wagging her tail happily. Meg walked down the steps and through the study, smiling as she saw Sam at the stove, frowning as he watched the oatmeal. Why he cooked oatmeal that way, she would never know, but the sight was a pleasant one. Sam looked up, smiling.

"There you are," he said, sounding disappointed; "Next time call before you decide to work extra hours, okay? Gave me a heart attack!" he said dramatically.

Meg smiled; "Sorry," she said as she sat on one of the stools. She looked down, idly picking at a small crack in the counter.

Sam turned with one hand on his hip while the other loosely held a wooden spoon; "What's wrong?" he asked; "Come on, I know that poignant mood you're in like the back of my hand..."

Meg sighed and shrugged; "I just... had an odd night," she said quietly, bending down to pet Miss Potts, the dog she called her "Puppy Prozac".

"Hn," Sam said, rolling his eyes; "Sure, and the queen of Scotts left me her crown. What's the matter, Meg?" he waited, but when he got no reply, continued; "Was it that weird feeling again?"

"Which one?" Meg asked dryly as she stood; "Sorry, Sam," she said almost instantly; "It's that weird one where... I feel like, for a brief moment..."

"You're seeing the same thing someone else is seeing at the exact same time?" Sam finished, eyeing her knowingly.

"Yeah," Meg said, nodding; "How'd you—?"

"Years of taking care of everyone," Sam said; "I feel like some soccer mom, keeping track of all of these emotions!" he said, throwing his hands up dramatically as he turned; "Oh damnit!" he hissed, taking the oatmeal off the stove and setting it to the side. It had started to burn.

Meg smiled; "What's got your thong in a knot?" she asked amusedly.

"My _thong_ in on straight, thank-you," Sam said defensively, holding his chin in the air; "I've just been thinking too, you know. I never got to finish my designs..."

"You've got until three this afternoon and it's only seven in the morning;" Meg said; "Hey, could I just grab some coffee and hit the road? I've got to get to work."

"You're always working," Sam said; "Yes, go on, _get_!" he said, waving her off.

Meg laughed and picked up her green cammo bag, filling it with everything she'd need for the day. As she left, she heard Sam saying; "_The oatmeal's for David, anyway...!_"

* * *

Meg made her way down the sidewalk, going underground to the subway. Paying the fee and finding the right route, she quickly jumped into a packed car. She held onto the upper rail for support.

The tram took off shortly after, and soon, it was consumed in a tunnel of dark. Meg closed her eyes and sighed, resting her head against her arm for support. She opened her eyes again, slowly, only to see the dark, grimy walls of the tunnel, and the occasional spotlight that lit up exits and small paths for workers. Watery blue eyes stared at the translucent reflection on the glass, meeting that of the other. Ghost stared at ghost, and for a moment, that's all Meg did, study herself. She was by no means vain, but was merely analyzing. She appeared no older than twenty-two, something most women would cherish. But Meg wished she looked her ripe age of twenty-five.

Meg sighed again, watching as the walls gave way to station. This wasn't her stop, so she took to sitting in a seat to avoid being trampled. She watched as people left, nearly all of them. Meg was used to this, she had seen the stares most of the car occupants were giving her and knew she had probably shocked them. She was very pale, and her hair was so pale and blonde that she did look like a ghost, or a haunt. Meg had learned to ignore it though, and took the occurrence as just an ordinary set-back to an ordinary day.

The doors shut. Meg looked over as a young man sat down near the end, dressed in business attire. His shining black briefcase was set at his side as he pulled out a laptop from a bag. Soon, he began tapping against the computer keys, not even giving Meg a second glance.

Meg sighed, and stretched out on the bench she was on. Using her bag as a pillow, she looked at the ceiling, before looking out the window...

_You gotta leave me now_

_You gotta go alone_

_You gotta chase a dream_

_One that's all your own_

_Before it slips away_

Meg remembered the subtle lyrics to the song, closing her eyes as she heard the song replaying in her mind...

_I keep looking up_

_Awaiting your return_

_My greatest fear will be_

_That you will crash and burn_

_And I won't feel your fire_

Soon, she began humming the song, and then, the words formed and her rustic, smooth voice quietly sang them, yet she was unawares as she was lost in her reveries.

_I'll be on the other end_

_To hear you when you call_

_Angel you were born to fly_

_And if you get too high_

_I'll catch you when you fall_

_Catch you when you fall_

_Your memory's the sunshine_

_Every new day brings_

_I know the sky is calling_

_Angel let me help you with your wings_

Meg opened her eyes and sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs as she tucked her knees to her chest. She continued to quietly sing, unawares yet again that the rhythmic, speedy tapping of computer keys had stopped.

_When you're soaring through the air_

_I'll be your solid ground_

_Take every chance you dare_

_I'll still be there_

_When you come back down_

Meg let the last words hang in the air, sighing sadly as she finished. She turned, her legs falling over the edge of the bench as she sat there, hunched over with her elbows resting on her thighs. She pulled her bag over between her feet, opening it again.

"Your voice was pretty good..."

Meg's head snapped up in surprise, her eyes falling on the young business man. Now, she got a good look at him. Tawny-brown hair, hazel eyes, fine complexion, he was a regular poster child [A/N: it's a term that, down here, means _HOTTER_ 'n Satan's draw's in spandex]. He was smiling slightly, laptop forgotten.

"Thank-you," Meg said uneasily; "I... I didn't know you were here, otherwise... I wouldn't have..."

"It wasn't bad, trust me," the man said, smiling warmly as he got up. Meg straightened up as he sat down beside her, hearing him say; "I'm Nathan."

He held his hand out to her, and Meg shook it quickly; "Meg," she said shortly, turning back to her bag and digging through it for nothing. She felt uneasy around this man, who called himself "Nathan". It wasn't that she was paranoid, but whenever a man had any interest in her, it felt like... cheating... in a way...

"So, Meg," Nathan continued; "You from around here? From New York, I mean."

"Been here since I was about seventeen," Meg replied, pulling out her sketch pad. She idly began flipping through the intricate and elegant drawings, trying her best not to meet those warm brown eyes.

"Well, I was just wondering;" he said nonchalantly; "You sound like you're from the South."

Meg froze, and looked at him with a sideways glance; "Yeah," she said slowly; "I am."

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm making you uneasy!" Nathan said immediately, getting up; "I only wanted to get your name... and possibly your number," he added, blushing slightly.

"Which number?" Meg asked; "Because I've got a lot of 'em."

"Um," Nathan said, "You have more than just _one_...?"

Meg sighed, "Twenty-five is my age," she began; "Ten is how many years since I ran away from home. Eight is how many years I've been here, and ten is also the number since I gave a guy a chance. Five is the number of years since I've been to church, and three is the number of jobs I have," she paused; "My phone number is 555-6782, but after hearing all the others, I'd be really surprised if you still wanted it."

Nathan stood there, now a little uneasy himself. He looked at Meg, and Meg packed her things up as the tram was slowly; "In short," Meg said, standing in front of him, even though she was not exactly eye-to-eye with him; "I'm..."

"Let me take you to lunch then," Nathan said quickly, smiling; "You think all of that would deter me? _Please_...?" he said again, taking her hand in both of his; "I know this great Italian place. Where is your next job? I could pick you up there..."

"Listen, I wouldn't consider it a date," Meg said, taking her hand back.

"We could just go as friends," Nathan said; "Please, I'd like to get to know you. You seem like an awesome person."

_Hear that before, _Meg thought as she looked away, glancing then at the doors as they opened, to reveal the platform; "Sure," she said, looking back at Nathan; "I'm actually heading to work now."

"Oh gosh, work!" Nathan exclaimed, running back over to get his things. Slamming the laptop shut, he then put it away and got his bag. Meg watched him with piqued curiosity, his mannerisms bringing back recollections of a certain boy who was now a young man. She rubbed her eyes at this, pressing the thoughts back into her mind.

"Sorry, I might have forgot all of this stuff," Nathan said as they walked out of the car; "So, where do you work, again?" he shouted over the din.

"_Anne's Coffee_ on Chester and Madison!" Meg replied just as loudly, smiling at him.

Nathan smiled, but was shoved to the side by someone; "Nathan!" Meg shouted worriedly, looking around. The tall, tawny haired man was no where.

"I'm fine!" Nathan called, and Meg looked to see him heading for the stairs. Meg crossed the crowd and got there, glaring at the moving mass.

"This is crazy!" Meg said exasperatedly as she and Nathan reached the world of New York City above.

"Never gets old, though," Nathan said; "So, I'll see you at eleven?"

"Sure," Meg said, smiling, "Eleven."

Nathan smiled, gave her a quick goodbye, and walked to the right, towards Time Square. Meg watched him go, and then took to the left, towards the coffee house.

As she went, Meg's phone rang. Rolling her eyes, she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Meg? This is Ty--!"

"Hey, Ty. What's up?"

"Listen, could you do me a _HUGE_ favor?"

Meg smirked; "Need my to pick up Jason?" she asked.

"Please? Samone's appointment got pushed up to three-thirty this afternoon and I have to be there with her. And I can't get a hold of any of the other girls so—"

"Ty, it's okay, I'll pick Jason up for ya."

"Sure it's alright?"

"Yeah, of course I'm sure! He's awesome, I won't mind at all."

"Ah, thank-you _so_ much, Meg."

"No problem, Ty."

"Alright. Well, I have ta go."

"Bye."

"Bye, and thanks again."

_Click_

_...Click_

* * *

"I don't care if he's not in the mood! Tell him to get his ass out here!"

"Mistuh Crisp has requested dat nobody bothuh 'im!"

Ray groaned as he heard the loud voice from outside his apartment. He had spent yesterday at his home, working from his computer. He had ordered food out, and hadn't felt like going out for Monday. But now, someone had hunted him down. It had to be Joey, no one could yell as loud as he could. And Max was trying his best to keep Joey at bay. Sighing, Ray tied the strings to his sweats tighter so they wouldn't fall off, put on the nearest shirt, a white muscle tank, and then headed from his bedroom to the door.

Ray opened the door, and saw Joey standing there, fighting verbally with Max. The bellman was undaunted with the loud Italian, choosing the better route and keeping his voice down.

"Joey, quit yelling at Max!" Ray shouted angrily, causing Joey to shut up and look at him; "Thanks, Max," Ray said calmly to the man. Max nodded, walking down the hall and back to the elevator.

Ray then dragged Joey into the apartment, and shut the door; "What _the hell_ got into you?" Ray asked him.

"You haven't bin seen in almost three days!" Joey said; "Roberto told me to check on you!"

"And where's Roberto?" Ray asked.

"Gettin' his girl at the airport," Joey replied; "Man, you look like _shit_. What's been happenin'?" he looked over at the kitchen; "damn, you need a maid," Joey remarked.

"She comes tomorrow and I've been busy, okay?" Ray said, walking back into the study. Joey followed him, looking around the cluttered room.

There were papers, files, scans, photos, all of the paraphernalia towards that, everywhere. The office was cluttered with work, but Joey's eyes landed on a shoebox full of letters. Ray sat down at the computer and sighed, and Joey took a letter.

"_'Dear Ray'_," he mumbled as he read; "_'I'm sorry I haven't been able to write... it's been at least three months... things are okay, I wish I could see you and the gang... I'm sorry I had to run off like I did... I know I messed up... hope you can find it in your heart to forgive and forget... Love, Meg'_," Joey was silent at that.

Ray watched his friend, before sighing and rubbing his eyes; "What's this about?" Joey asked, holding the letter up.

"It's a long story, Joey," Ray said simply, turning and looking at the computer.

"Well, make a short version of it all and tell me."

"Met a girl, we fell in love, shit happened and she had to leave," Ray said; "I can't let go..."

"So find her, man," Joey said.

"After ten years?" Ray asked, "Yeah, I have her address, and I met two people who know her, sorta. But each time I tried, she hasn't been around. What's the point? It's obvious I won't get any closer..."

Joey looked at Ray critically; "Alright man, listen to me while I'm sober, okay?" Ray looked at him; "Just cuz Fate's a bitch don't mean you gotta give in to it, okay? And damnit, if you give up on something, then what's that say for me, huh?"

"What?" Ray asked, looking at Joey quizzically.

"You heard me," Joey said; "I haven't seen you give up on anything yet. I don't know the details, but it seems like you really were determined 'til somethin' kicked ya in the ass and you fell in the mud. Get up."

Ray shook his head and smiled half-heartedly, "_What_?!" Joey asked accusingly.

"First bit o' sense I heard outta you in a _long_ time," Ray said, looking at him again; "Thanks, man."

"Hey, when you find this chick I wanna meet her." Joey said; "I'm goin' now. Give Roberto a call and tell 'em you're alive before he sends the cops on ya."

Ray laughed; "Whatever, Joey," he said.

**TBC**

And remember, be sure to review. Cuz, now that I look at it, reviews are sort of like payment. The whole "you scratch my back, I'll scratch your back" saying comes to mind.

_note: indevidual italics lyrics to Nicklecreek's song "When You Come Back Down"._

**REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	7. Unspoken Resilience

A/N: Hello!!!! Wow, this was really late, wasn't it? But never fret, I haven't forgotten!!!!

Oh, the Disclaimer: I do not own anything 

-  
**  
Chapter Seven: Unspoken Resilience **

"So, you've got a degree in art? What branch?"

"Well, I've got two, actually; one's for fashion and the other's for photography."

"Wow, interesting, a lot more fun than law I bet."

"Well, you also have your businesses, though, right? What's wrong with having something to fall back on?"

Nathan laughed, covering his mouth so it wasn't so loud. She just seemed so innocent; "No, the businesses are the back-up plan," he said; "I kinda lose my head in the court room."

"Really?" Meg asked, smiling and chuckling as she spun the teeth of her fort in her salad idly, watching Nathan; "What, do you argue out of bounds or somethin'?"

Again, Nathan chuckled, and nodded; "Yeah, sorta like that," he said; "Actually, I called the judge a 'prejudice fat pig' and they uh... put me in contempt for a while..." he looked down.

"Why?" Meg asked, sipping on her water.

"Look, you tell me something about you, and I'll talk," Nathan said; "I've been talkin' for the past hour, Meg, tell me somethin' about you now."

Meg nodded; "Well, what ya curious about?" she asked.

Nathan shrugged; "I dunno," he said, smirking; "Tell me somethin' about uh... your past. Ya know, where'd you come from, where you went to school, that kinda stuff."

"Okay," Meg said, "Well, I grew up in Tennessee, but when I was about sixteen I went up North to a boarding school kinda deal. Well, I was there for about a year, and... a few things happened..."

"What things?" Nathan asked.

Meg shook her head; "Not here, maybe later," she said, "Sorry, but trust is kinda hard for me..."

"Understandable," Nathan said, "Sorry for interrupting."

"It's okay," Meg said, "Anyway, I uh, moved up here."

"When you were _seventeen_? Wow... that takes guts."

"Well, I didn't come up here on my own. My friend, she was waitin' for me at the train station. She let me stay with her, then I got into college and I lived in the dorms. Then, I moved in with a guy I met in college. Don't worry, he's gay, so the only relationship... well he's like another brother. Anyway, I've been... here I guess, just, ya know, living. I told you I have the three jobs, and my family back Home. So, my life's pretty boring."

"You said you went up north to boarding school?" Nathan repeated; "what was that like?"

Meg shrugged; "Like livin' with your family, once you got used to it all. See, it was really a renovated mansion, and there were only a few of us. It was some fancy art academy; I got in for my writings and photography."

"Wow," Nathan said; "I'm surprised you didn't get in for your voice."

"Oh, would ya let that go already?" Meg asked jokingly, covering her mouth as she smiled and giggled.

Nathan smiled; "I'm serious," he said, "I know a guy who's a manager for things that could get you deals in singing, ya know, as extra cash."

Meg shook her head and smiled; "No, I don't' sing for that kinda stuff," she said.

"Then why do you sing?" Nathan asked.

"What's up with the interrogation?" Meg retorted kindly.

"I'm curious, you said I could ask," Nathan said, an innocent smirk on his face.

"Well, I sing because..." _it helps me forget... I can lose my self if only for just a moment. I can be free of the guilt and that weird feeling in my soul, that feeling that's eating away. I can forget how empty and alone I feel..._ "It helps with stress," she decided, looking down.

Nathan could tell he'd reached a line he wasn't allowed to venture over yet, he knew his question had left Meg perturbed, but whether or not if it was with him, or herself, he didn't know. He still wanted to know her, she was so cute and seemed lost on the tram, he wanted to... to help, if he had to.

"Look, if it's something bad you don't have to tell me," Nathan said, "I won't go so far as to upset when we just met."

"Thanks," Meg said, smiling as she put her hair behind her hear; "But, it's me, not you, you don't have to apologize..."

"To say 'I'm Sorry' is to state one's sympathy and understanding of the situation that has caused the distress," Nathan said.

"Wow, so articulate," Meg said, smiling as she looked back at Nathan; "Thanks, Nathan, for lunch I mean."

"No problem, I enjoyed it," Nathan said; "Er... why would you say...?"

Before he could finish, the waitress came and set the check on the table; "Can I offer you guys dessert?" she asked.

"Um, no thanks," Nathan and Meg said in unison, and they glance at each other before smiling up at the waitress.

"Um, okay, thanks for coming!" the waitress said; "Just flag me down when you're ready to pay!" and she walked over to her next table.

"I could see her walkin' up behind you," Meg said when Nathan looked at her oddly; "Don't think I'm abnormal or telepathic or somethin'."

"Oh no, why would I?" Nathan asked as he pulled out his wallet; "Listen, I'd really like to get a hold of you again, Meg," he said as he set the money on top of the bill, eyes fixed on Meg; "Could I have your number?"

Meg was silent. She wasn't looking for a relationship, she didn't want one with Nathan, at least. HE was a wonderful person, one of the sweetest guys she'd ever met, but it wasn't right on her part to put him through anything that had to do with her...

"Um, yeah," Meg said, pulling out a pen and scrap of paper; "Look though, this is my home phone, okay? I'm not looking for anything serious, Nathan."

"Oh, I know," Nathan said; "You told me. But hey, we can still be friends, right?" he asked as she handed him the paper.

"Yeah," she said, smiling when he took it.

The waitress came and took the bill, Nathan telling her to keep the change as tip, and the two left. As they walked down to Nathan's car, Meg checked her cellphone clock.

"Whoa gosh!" she exclaimed upon viewing the screen; "It's almost three! Wow, you didn't pick me up until about twelve thirty! Oh man, I have to go, Nathan..." she shook her head; "Ah man I'm gonna be late at this rate..."

"Whoa, to what?" Nathan asked, taking her arm gently when they reached his car.

"I have to pick Jase up, Samone's son, from school," Meg said, wrenching her arm away just as smoothly; "If I hurry I can grab the subway—"

"Uh, Meg, hello, _car_," Nathan said.

Meg looked at the car, then Nathan, then the car, and then Nathan again; "Oh Nathan, no, I can walk, you don't have to. Besides, it's halfway through town, I can't subject you to that!"

"Hey, I have time, and what are friends for?"

"Nathan, oh thank the Lord you are the best," Meg said as she got in. Nathan ran around and got into the driver's seat.

"So, where to?" he asked as the engine came to life.

* * *

Ray and Roberto were at Ray's office above their Logo Company, pouring over legal documents, and the day's paper. It was all over the front page. Kinnock had been found.

"So, what'll we do if the cops come by?" Roberto asked quietly as he locked the door.

"They won't come by, Roberto, just keep your cool," Ray said, sitting down in his office chair with the paper in hand; "Oh shit."

"What? What what what?!" Roberto asked agitatedly.

"Shit, shit, he remembered what I looked like!" Ray exclaimed; "'White/Caucasian male; height: six foot one; blonde cropped hair, hazel-blue eyes...!" he threw the paper down; "Shit, Mastermind didn't do his job! Roberto, If anybody puts two and two together, I'm screwed! No, this can't be happening!" he finished in a groan, pulling at the hair on the sides of his head as he leaned back in the chair roughly.

"Ray, calm down!" Roberto said; "Look, there are plenty of guys out there who look like you! So chill!"

"Who else has hazel-blue eyes, Roberto? Who else?!" Ray asked, letting his head go as he looked at Roberto tiredly.

"Dude, your eyes get like that only when your upset or nervous, or feel threatened," Roberto said; "It's the build-up of electricity that does that, you know that."

"Yeah, but how stressed have I been lately?" Ray asked; "A lot of people would be able to vouch, and I can't hide it. Man, I can keep my cool around the cops, but if it ever happened and I was found out..." he shook his head and held his head in his hands as his elbows went to his knees; "You could get found out," he whispered, "Then Maximoff, Evan... then everything we worked so hard for would be ruined... I'd create some cataclysmic vortex of ruin!" he added exasperatedly.

"Great description, Ray," Roberto said; "But think about this: If it came to that, you would jus tell the truth and say you worked for Valerio."

"And then have the mafia _and_ the mob on my ass?" Ray asked; "I'm screwed, Roberto..."

Roberto picked up the paper, and read the article; "Says here Kinnock said that the people who hurt him did so they could save his life. He said that the mutant bartered with somebody so he'd still be living. He can't remember _who_ he was in trouble with, or who the mutant that 'saved him' was."

Ray snorted as he held his hands together in a fist and leaned his chin against it; "Mutant," he repeated bitterly; "That's all they need to start a witch hunt..."

"Ray, me 'n' you both know how many mutants there are in New York alone."

"Yeah, and the odds are nineteen to one, Roberto," Ray said; "And, because of that gay law Senator Kelly made stating that mutants could not use their abilities to harm humans. I can get _executed_, Roberto!"

"No one's gonna die, Ray! You still haven't been listed yet! As long as you stay off the radar, the government won't get anywhere near this. You're blowing it way outta proportion! It won't come to that!"

Ray nodded, sighing to control his rapidly beating heart; "You're right," he said; "I just... shit, it caught me off-guard..."

Roberto nodded, a smirk creeping on his features; "What?" Ray asked.

"Oh nuthin', just rememberin' one time when you blew up on Logan once."

"Which time?" Ray asked, and both shared a laugh.

* * *

Meg was standing outside the school, arms crossed and looking around. The bell had rung, but she could find Jason in the crowd of children. But Meg saw his teacher, and, turning to see that Nathan was leaning against his car and waiting. Meg smiled at that, and then went over to the teacher.

"Miss Madeline!" Meg said loudly, waving to the woman as she made her way over.

"It's Meg DeBonte, right?" the teacher, Ruby Madeline, asked, a gentle smile on her face as the two shook hands.

"Yes," Meg said, "Um, I'm supposed to pick up Jason, but I can't find him!"

"Oh, he's still in the room," Ruby said; "He's been a bit down, lately, maybe you should talk to him."

Meg nodded; "Thank-you," she said, and she headed into the building.

It was old, like almost every other place in this section of New York City. Meg walked down the halls, trying to fid the right door of the third grade class. She checked inside the rooms through the windows in the doors, and finally found the right one on the second floor. Jason was sitting at his desk, head bowed over a book he wasn't reading. His eyes were cloudy and distant, and he didn't look up when Meg quietly entered the room.

"Jase?" she asked, walking over to him; "What's up, boo?"

Jason looked up at her, then back down; "Nuthin'," he mumbled.

"Well, somethin's gotta be up," Meg said; "Come on, you can tell me..."

Jason sighed; "Mama and Pops got into it last night," he said quietly.

"I'm sure it's just stress, Jason..."

"No," Jason said, shaking his head; "I might not get a baby sister..."

Meg was silent as she heard this. Samone, lose her baby? That would explain why the appointment got moved... Meg sighed with exhaustion. There was just too much going on...

"Listen, Jase, I know Samone will have her baby, okay?" Meg assured; "Hey, it's really cool to have a baby, but it can sometimes make you worry. Your mommy's probably just a little stressed, is all. Hey, what d'ya say we go get somethin', huh? How 'bout Tangelo's Ice Cream? My treat!"

Jason looked at her, and smiled; "Okay," he said.

Meg smiled; "Great," she said; "Now, let's get your stuff..."

* * *

About five minutes later, Meg and Jason walked out; Jason laughing after Meg told him a story from her childhood. Nathan watched them coming out, half-wondering if Jason was Meg's child. He couldn't blame himself for thinking that; they went so well together. He didn't let his queries show, though, as the two came to his car.

"Hey Nathan, I'm gonna walk home," Meg said, "Me 'n' Jason are gonna get some ice cream, okay?" her smile brightened as she said; "I had a good time."

Nathan smiled; "Anytime, Meg, just give me a call."

Meg nodded; "Okay, Jase, let's go," she said, turning to the little boy beside her.

Jason nodded, glancing at Nathan as they walked away. Nathan stared back, watching the two retreating backs. Sighing, he then got into his car and drove off.

* * *

"I... I'm gonna go get a few things done," Ray said suddenly, rising.

"But we still have to go over the stock exchanges!" Roberto exclaimed, waving papers around.

"No, this stuff's more important," Ray said as he got his things and left. His voice had been distant, as if he was already where he needed to be.

Roberto stared through the open door helplessly, and then sighed.

* * *

Meg and Jason got to Meg's home about and hour and a half later, talking about baseball. The kid was a whiz, and the only sport Meg was educated in was football, so all she could really do was ask questions.

"So, what you're trying to tell me is that all you have to do is hit a ball with a stick and run in a square?" Meg asked innocently as they went into the kitchen.

Jason laughed; "No!" he said, "It's only based on that, Meg! It's more... more..." he thought for the word; "complicated! Yeah, it's more complicated than that!"

Meg laughed; "Well, all I know how to play is football, so you won't catch me at a Yankee's game any time soon."

"You like basketball though, right?" Jason asked anxiously, as though the question meant life or death.

"Uh, duh of course I do!" Meg said, laughing; "Come on, you can do your homework in the den..."

"Can I watch TV too?" Jason asked as he went in there.

Before Meg could reply, she heard the TV turn on. Shaking her head, she set her things down on the counter, and looked at the fridge. Sam had left a note saying he'd be staying at David's house overnight, and again, Meg sighed. She didn't much like David, but if he made Sam happy, then she would keep her opinions to herself. She rubbed her eyes and groaned; she was so tired all of a sudden. She needed a getaway.

Meg jumped from her thoughts as the phone rang. She went into the den and picked it up; "Hello?"

"Meg?"

"Oh, hey Samone," Meg said, sighing.

"What's wrong? You sounded..."

"I was just thinking, 's all," Meg said; "Soooooooo... how'd the appointment go?"

"That's what I'm calling about. Jason... can he stay at your house overnight? Now's not the time he needs to be home," the woman on the other end withheld a sob.

"Samone..." Meg said, feeling helpless in the situation.

"It might be stillborn," Samone said, finally sobbing; "Oh God Meg, what did I do wrong? What did I do..." she sobbed.

"Samone, you didn't do anything," Meg insisted.

"Yes I did..."

"There's still hope, you still have five and a half months to go. Don't give up, Samone, you will have that baby."

"Meg," Jason asked quietly.

Meg looked over, seeing Jason was in the entrance room; "Yeah?" she asked, hand over the receiver so Samone wouldn't hear.

"There's somebody at the door," Jason said, "Well, he was, but now he's leaning against his car. But he's lookin' at the door. He knocked," he finished innocently, looking at her.

"Ty's comin' over to get Jason, Meg, never mind," Samone said after a moment of silence on her end; "I'm sorry you had to hear me crying..."

Meg returned her attention to the phone; "No, Samone, it's fine, really," she said, "Just... don't dwell on the negatives, okay?"

"Okay," Samone said, swallowing another sob; "Thanks Meg," she sighed; "Sometimes just hearin' your words helps. You never talk about bad things. It's good. Thanks again."

"Just calm down, okay?" Meg asked.

"Yeah, I'll try. Bye, Meg..."

"Bye..."

Meg hung up and ran her hands through her hair; "Okay, Jason, your dad's on his way, okay? Why don't you pack up?"

"Okay," Jason said, running back into the den to gather up his things.

Meg walked to the door, and, sighing, she opened it. Stepping out onto the small porch, Meg looked straight ahead, and gasped.

"Ray..." she whispered, hands over her mouth in shock.

**TBC**

_a/n:_ please review if you want. More soon to come


	8. Can't Wait Any Longer

A/N: hi all! Sorry for not updating in forever. My computer had been a right bitch so I had to replace it. And the new computer wouldn't read my floppies so I've had to start anew. Well, I'm back!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

**Chapter Eight: Couldn't Wait Any Longer **

There she was. Standing a mere three steps from him in tight jeans and a baggy shirt with a ripped collar revealing the straps to a black sports bra, her long hair in a low bun: _Meg_.She had whispered his name, in a voice he thought was weary, worse for wear. Ray stood there for a moment, making sure it was her. He slowly walked up the few steps that separated them.

What could he say? Ten years of pent up emotions fought for control of his heart. He had so many things he could say. But he couldn't decide what to say. Should he start by saying how much he still loved her, how he still dreamed about having her as his wife? Or how he had been hurt by the long years spent waiting, how he had put his heart and soul into whatever he did just to push the pain away. In a way, he owed it to Meg for his success, he suddenly thought.

"I…" he began, looking at her; "I couldn't wait anymore, Meg."

Meg withheld a sob, and covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes squinted to avoid tears.

"I… Ray," Meg said, so quietly it barely passed as a whisper; "I'm so, so sorry."

_They say history repeats itself…_

…

_And in this case, it does…_

And Ray held her, held her close as she fell into him and cried into his shoulder, or more so his chest. She had not grown much since the day she'd left, while Ray seemed to tower over her to a certain degree. He kissed her forehead gently, and sighed as he held his head to her head, to steady her as she had begun to shake with every sob. He wanted to cry with her for some reason, out of happiness and uncertainty, but resisted the urge. He was just content to know that Meg was here, with him.

Meg sniffed and backed away, her hands on Ray's arms as she looked up at him. He smiled kindly and wiped away a tear that was rolling her cheek. She smiled a weak smile but a smile none the less.

"Meg, what's the matter?" Ray asked worriedly, looking from one smoky grey eye to the other. Wait, since when were her eyes grey? What had happened?

Meg shook her head; "Wanna come in?" she asked, stepping away.

"Sure," Ray said, sighing inaudibly as he followed Meg inside.

He took a moment to look around, nodding at the modest beauty it held, and then he followed Meg into the kitchen. She motioned to a stool at the bar, and he sat down. Meg busied her self pulling out a pot and filling it with water. While it did, she went to a cabinet and pulled out a large jar full of leaves soaking in water.

"Mama mailed it up to me," Meg said when she saw Ray staring at the jar; "Her own special tea leaves, the ones she grows in the backyard…"

Ray nodded, and for a moment, there was nothing but awkward silence. Meg moved the pot from the sink to the stove, and set the heat. She turned off the faucet, and then went to the jar. Ray just watched her, her graceful movements around the kitchen capturing his gaze. She picked through the leaves, finding the best. She put them in the pot, and then went into the cabinets again, this time trying to reach the spice rack.

"Here, let me help," Ray said, getting up and walking around the bar.

Meg was standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach the spices. Ray stood over her and got them, setting them down on the counter.

"Thanks," Meg said, blushing as she looked up at him and smiled.

"What are you doin', anyway?" Ray asked, bending down and looking over her shoulder like a small child.

Meg giggled; "Well, I'm makin' mama's special tea," she said quietly.

"_Ohh_," ray said, nodding; "So, how do you make it?"

"Well, ya start out by boilin' the tea leaves," she said, "Then; you get the vanilla, the ginger… a few other things…"

Ray listened to her explain, though he really didn't pay attention. He was a love struck teenager again, too glad just to hear her voice. He was so weak when it came to her, she had him under his power and she didn't know it. Maybe she did. Maybe she was relishing in it. Or maybe she did know and was ignoring it, embarrassed by such attention. Soon he had to back out of the kitchen though, as she moved the pot off the stove and onto a chopping block. Steam rose into the air, wafting into the air with a pleasant odor. Ray sat back down and watched Meg move around the kitchen, sprinkling this and that into the pot of steaming liquid. After stirring it for a few minutes, she fished the tea leaves out, and then, got two mugs down from a cabinet.

* * *

Roberto shifted his weight from one foot to the other anxiously. He watched the large sign explaining arrival and departure times. In one hand he held a bouquet of white lilies, in the other, a precious black box that within held a twelve karot ring. He hummed as he decided to walk around the airport. Hey amused himself with watching people coming in and out of the United States, but quickly lost interest. Finally, he found himself at Gate 34, just in time to watch a plane land, _her_ plane. It wheeled over to the gate, parked, and a staircase was lowered. Passengers began filing out, but Roberto was only there for one.

And then he saw her. Her long brown hair was being blown about her face, her curvaceous figure tightly concealed beneath a tight red dress and a black coat. She walked down the steps in expensive black heels, and Roberto swore he heard her light laughter as she dropped her carry-on bag and a man gave it back to her. Deep red stained her skin as she blushed, but kind words from the man had her laughing soon again

_Janette_.

Roberto rushed to the entrance, again shifting his weight from foot to foot. He saw people going through the metal detectors, all strangers to his eyes and his heart. But then he heard her call his name. He ran to her and she ran to him, and they embraced.

"Oh, I missed you, _mi amor_!" Janette said, looking at him and smiling as they parted.

"I missed you too, Janette," Roberto said; "Here, these…" he presented the flowers to her, "Are for you."

She gasped at their beauty, delicately holding the bouquet in her hands; "Ah, _mi amor_, they _muy bonita_!" she said, her English mixing with Portuguese as she hugged him again.

Roberto laughed and returned the embrace. When they parted, he took her hands in his, and said in quiet Portuguese; "Janette, I have courted with you for five years. Remember when we met, at my cousin's wedding? I thought, 'she is beautiful, she is amazing' and I knew from right then that you were something special. You have changed me, helped me become a man so that I may be better at caring for you, protecting you, and making you laugh;" At this Janette giggled and blushed, and Roberto smiled more; "And as our time together grew and grew, I realized that you were the _one_…" he got down on one knee, never losing eye contact.

Janette smiled, tears gathering as her hand covered her mouth. Roberto smiled, then continued; "I wanted to wait and do this at dinner," he said with a nervous laugh; "But I couldn't wait any longer;" he held out the black box, and opened it with one hand. The diamond glittered in the terminal lighting, and Janette gasped. "I want you to be the one I spend the rest of my life with. Will you?"

"Oh, Si, si!" she squealed, and Roberto rose and placed the ring on her left ring finger. He kissed her, and she eagerly kissed back. When they heard clapping, or when it registered, both separated and blushed. Roberto took her hand, and they went off to get her luggage, hurrying past the small crowd that had gathered.

* * *

Ray found a mug in front of him, full of a steaming hot amber liquid. The smell was nice, so he took the mug in his hands and sipped. He looked over and Meg was doing the same, leaning against the counter opposite of him.

"So," Ray said, "I uh, saw a boy through the window," he paused, "Uh, I don't want to be rude but… is he…?"

"Mine?" Meg finished, giggling, "No, he's my friends'. I'm just baby sitting," she smiled and shook her head; "Nope, he ain't mine… why?"

Ray shrugged; "Just curious," he said; "I—_we_… haven't spoken in what seems like forever, Meg…"

"That's my fault," Meg said, looking down; "I… tried to make you forget about me."

"Why?" Ray asked, perplexed.

Meg looked up at him; "To be honest, now I ain't so sure," she said; "At first, I blamed myself for so many things, Ray, and then, I found myself thinkin' 'Why am I here? What did I do?' then I think about all the times I'd messed up, all the trouble I got into at home and at the institute. I thought about what I was-_what I am_…" she looked away, "I knew—I _thought_—it was better off. I had to leave…"

Ray got up, and walked over as Meg sat her mug down and wrapped her arms around herself. He embraced her, held her so close and yet so gently. She laid her head against his chest and sighed, overcome again. She closed her eyes, but opened them slowly as she heard Ray whisper in her ear.

"What ever you did in the past, I've probably done so much worse. Whatever you've seen or heard, I've probably heard or seen just as bad. I see you for so much more of you are, so much more than you think you could ever be. I see you in everything and anything, I always have, and no matter what you are or who you become, I will never lose faith that you will see all the things I do…"

A tear slowly escaped Meg's eye and she felt like crying again. She had never thought of bringing so much pain. But she heard it in what Ray said, could feel it through the beating of his heart so attuned to her own. She gripped Ray's loose shirt in her hand and buried her face in his chest, crying. She'd cried so much and they both had been on such a rollercoaster. And it was all her fault.

"Meg, I love you," Ray said.

* * *

Joey whistled as he walked into his apartment. He tossed his jacket onto the back of a chair, and heading for the kitchen, he first went to the phone and checked his messages, choosing to put them on speaker so he could go about his business.

"_You have four new messages_," the phone chimed.

"Play!" Joey hollered as he went to the kitchen.

"Uh yah Joey this is Mack. Just thought you wanted to know d' meetin' got switched from tooooosday t' Saturday. Be dere."

"DELETE!" Joey hollered, beginning to search the contents of his ice box.

"Hey baby, it's Cammie--"

"DELETE!"

"Hey Joey it's Roberto just callin' to make sure you know about the meetin'--"

"Delete!" Joey hollered again, opening a beer.

But as he was taking his first swig of Corona, he froze; "Joseph, it's yor fathuh."

Oh Shit, Joey thought.

"Look, I am not very pleased with a certain indevidual's performance, this indevidual being Ray Crisp. Now, I treat this boy like family, and what does he do? Nothing. What shoudl Ibe doing to please this kid? Nothing. He should be showing me the respect I deserve. I gave him everything! Tell him he needs to shape up, or else _I'll _shape him up myself."

* * *

"Oh God, Ray, I love you too!" Meg said, her arms going around his neck as she tried to stay standing up. She suddenly felt so weak and helpless.

Ray had longed to hear those words. He felt his shirt's damp spots and knew her statement was true. And as he heard her "i'm sorry's", all that mattered to him was that they were holding onto each other for what seemed like forever, but there was a knock at the door and a dog barked, hence ruining the moment of granduer. They separated quickly, and Ray said he would get the door.

When Ray opened the door, he saw Tyson standing on the stoop, looking at his watch; "Ray," he said, nodding to Ray in introduction; "My son around?"

"What? Uh, yeah," Ray said, backing up and letting Tyson in.

Jason saw his father, and smiling ran to him. Tyson bent down and scooped his son up in his powerful arms; "Hey," Tyson said to Ray; "Take care o' her, okay? I don't want her cryin' on my doorstep."

Ray nodded, and closed the door when Tyson and Jason left. He turned and saw Meg standing at the counter, in front of the sink, and saw she was pouring the tea into a glass pitcher. He walked over to the counter and sat down again.

"Jason's dad was here," Ray said idly.

"Oh, okay," Meg said, looking at him for a moment; "So," she said, placing the glass pitcher on the counter; "What… what happens now?"

Ray looked at his hands on the counter, moving the digits as he thought; "I…" he paused; "There's gonna be a band playing at one of my clubs… you're coming, right?"

He looked up at her, and she saw how the hazel eyes she'd often thought of were laced with blue. "Of course," she said, smiling.

Three hours later, after talking with Meg the entire time and feeling very content, Ray got into his car. He sighed and smiled for no reason. He felt lightheaded, relieved, saved, like a heavy weight had been lifted. He was pulling up to his apartment complex when his phone began to ring. He dug it out of his pockets as he gave the valet his keys, and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ray? It's Joey."

"Yeah Joey, what's up?"

"I uh… got a phone call from _dad_ today, man, an' he ain't too happy."

"'Bout what, our grades?"

"This isn't funny, Ray! He's upset with you, thinks you don't respect him ,that you might be turning traitor on 'im or somethin'."

"But I'm not!"

"Yeah, I know, but he thinks cuz you won't kill anyone that you're too soft, that you would give in easy should the cops find you."

"Your dad knows me better than that, man…"

"Yeah, I think that too, but Ray, you need to honestly get it together man."

"…You know I can't have blood on my hands, Joey, I couldn't handle it."

sigh "I know, man, I know…"

"What'll I do?"

"…I dunno… gimme a day to think. I'll come up with somethin."

"Okay."

_Click_

…_Click_.

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

They stumbled into the house loudly. It was easily two in the morning. They laughed quietly and tugged at each other's clothes, kissing each other and trying to make it up the steps. They kicked their shoes off once they reached the second floor, and coats had been left at the front door. Elbows and a nervous hand pushed the door open, and they entered a clean and darkly colored room. A hand shot out and electric sparks lit the wicks to candles. Another jolt of electricity turned on the radio.

Meg kissed Ray and he shamelessly kissed her back. They moved to the bed and Meg pushed him gently down onto it. She pulled off her shirt slowly, knowing his hungry eyes were on her. Ray leaned back on his elbows, knowing his mouth was slightly open, knowing his breathing was a little loud, knowing his lustful eyes were trying to take in all of the pale skin being offered. She was beautiful, for lack of a better word, and he couldn't believe she was his.

Meg slowly walked over, and crawled onto his lap. Kissing at his neck while she slowly pushed his shirt down his arms, she elicited a moan from the young man. Ray felt a stirring in his groin and knew he was at her mercy, he always had been. But as the reality of what was happening sank slowly in, he sobered. Ray's eyes snapped fully open and he sat up, holding a startled Meg from falling onto the ground.

"Meg, do you realize what we're about to do?" he asked her, setting her to his side and looking at her. Strong hands still held onto pale skin, contact still needed to keep a drunken mind calm.

Meg nodded; "I haven't been drinking, either," she said, "I want this, Ray, I want _you_…"

She began kissing him, and he wrapped his arms around her, laying her down slowly. Breaking away for air, he then whispered; "Let me make you feel like no one else has ever made you felt…" he began kissing her again.

**FOLLOWING MORNING**

Sam groaned as he woke. Looking over he saw David snoring quietly beside him. _What a night_, he thought as he rose, groaning again. His head was pounding, he felt like he would throw up. At the thought, he rushed for his bathroom, and paid homage to the porcelain god.

With disgust he wiped his mouth with toilet paper, flushed what had once been the contents of his stomach, and then rose. He put on pajama bottoms, and then exited the room. As he headed for the stairs, he saw that Meg's door was partially open, and a pair of shoes not her size and not for her gender outside it, one stuck between door and frame. With curiosity like that of a child, he walked over, quiet as a cat. Pushing the door open with his fingertips, Sam then smirked, letting the door glide on open as he leaned against the pane.

Meg and Ray were in the bed, both naked. The sheets were drawn up around Meg, who rested against Ray's chest. Ray, who was lying on his stomach with an arm under Meg, mouth open slightly. Only the quilt covered his… buttox, and this caused Sam to hold in a chuckle.

"Well, welly well _well_ then!" he said airily and loudly, elated at how it caused Ray to jump and Meg to squeal.

"What the…?" Meg began, looking around; "Sam? Get out! _Out_!"

Sam laughed as Meg threw a pillow in his general direction, shutting the door and laughing all the louder.

David came out of Sam's bedroom, tying the strings to his pajama bottoms; "What was that about?" he mumbled, scratching the side of his head.

Sam began to head for the stairs; "Woke up Meg is all…"

"Sounded like she had somebody in there," David said idly as he followed Sam downstairs.

"Oh,_ she did_," Sam said, looking at David with a knowing look.

"Was he fit, then?" David asked, his native British accent coming into play.

"Hmm, yeah, suppose so," Sam said as they went into the kitchen; "He's a bit too buff for me, though."

"Well _lucky_ _me_, then," David said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, honey you're built fine," Sam said; "You're not bone skinny, if that's what you're thinking."

"Well _duh_…"

* * *

Meg waited for the sounds of her room mate to fall away to the distance, and then she groaned and put her face into the pillow. Ray rearranged the blankets, blushing at the fact that a gay man might have caught a glimpse at his package was more than unnerving for him.

"Well, good morning," Ray said, smiling as he leaned against his elbow beside Meg.

Meg said something, but as the pillow was in contact with her face, it was muffled and therefore he couldn't comprehend it. Ray chuckled and began to play with her pale blonde hair, finding that he liked it more than he had ever liked her with red hair. Meg turned to face him, smiling. Ray leaned down and kissed her forehead, but she brought his lips lower and for a moment they were connected.

When they separated, Meg sat up, letting the blankets slide without a second thought; "Let's go out for breakfast," she said; "I know where there's a Waffle House..."

Ray smiled; "This early? C'mon, Meg, let's just go back to sleep…" he laid down, looking at her innocently.

Meg stuck out her lower lip; "No, you c'mon," she said, playfully shoving him; "Besides, it's like, ten o'clock. It ain't early no more."

There she went again with her broken dialect. Ray smiled, how could he say no?

"Okay," he said, rising; "But… can I take a shower?"

Meg looked at him seductively as she slowly rose; "Well, I was going to take one, but, if you wanna join me," she began walking to a side door Ray hadn't noticed before.

And like a well-trained puppy Ray got up and followed her into the bathroom.

* * *

Sam and David, who had settled down to read the paper and eat breakfast, both stopped to look up at the ceiling as they heard a moan.

"Do we make that much noise, love?" David asked, looking at Sam quizzically.

Sam, still looking up at the ceiling, replied; "Oh I bet we could make more," he said, nodding with indemnity.

David laughed as he went back to the paper; "Whoa, listen to this!" he said with surprise; "_'Another body was found washed up on the shores of Staten Island late last evening when a passing boat noticed a white Nike against the black rocks. The remains were male, and cause of death was blunt force trauma of the head. Police officials have reported that the death was more than likely a mob hit. The body was missing hands, feet, nose, lips and eyes_'…" David grimaced and made a sound of disgust, "Oh nasty, I can't read anymore…"

"Well I can," Sam said as he snatched up the paper and continued reading, aloud; "'_Without the missing body parts, identifying the remains is next to impossible, as there were no fingerprints decent enough to lift'_… Well damn, someone's thorough!" Sam said, looking up; "It had to be a mob hit!"

"Well duh, but which one? The Italian, the Japanese? The Irish? Which?"

"Hmm, The Irish mob hasn't made a move in weeks, Davie," Sam said, "And the Japanese aren't so thorough…"

"_Wow_," David said; "Wonder if… _nah_…"

"What? What! Don't leave me out!"

"Well, you remember that one guy you bumped into?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, you said he seemed to be snooping around, right? Maybe he was coming the area for a victim!"

For a quick second Sam glanced upward, then shook his head as he looked at David; "Nah, couldn't have been."

* * *

**A/N:** well there yall go! sorry once again for the delay! **please review**! 


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